Demeter's Wish
by Autumn2005
Summary: It was all Demeter's idea. Hades was the only one she could trust to protect her daughter. Now complete!
1. Tryst with Zeus

**A/N: After accidentally stumbling on a Hades and Persephone story on here and falling in love with them, I decided to write my own. I wanted to do something a little different with Demeter, but most of the action focuses on H&amp;P. Please forgive any artistic license I've taken with the mythology. The first few chapters are already written, and they are fairly short. Once we get into the meat of the story, I expect chapters to be about 3-5k words. Reviews are lovely.  
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**Chapter 1: Tryst with Zeus**

Demeter's tryst with Zeus, though not exactly unpleasant, wasn't memorable to either of them. Zeus was in a hurry so that Hera wouldn't catch him at it with another woman, _again_. Demeter knew better than to expect a declaration of undying devotion, but she expected _something_ better than, "Thanks for the ride. Now shove off, sister." He disappeared in a clap of thunder and the smell of ozone.

Her heart broke. She cried and raged against Zeus and men in general. Even worse, when she was this upset her powers didn't work right, so she was effectively trapped in Zeus' sky palace in Mount Olympus. Hera was due home at any time, and she was known for her murderous rages toward her husband's lovers.

Demeter didn't exactly fear for her life—she was a goddess after all—but being immortal meant she could experience a lot more pain for a long, long time before her body gave out. She was working herself into a fine state of hysteria when she felt a touch on her shoulder. Thinking it was Zeus come back to have his way with her again, she whirled around with a snarl. But it wasn't her youngest brother.

It was her eldest.

She recoiled instinctively from Hades, and then immediately regretted it. While in their father's stomach and during the war with the Titans, he'd had a terrible temper, worse than any of the others. He was able to put even Hera to shame. He had learned control since becoming the King of the Underworld, but memories of his past deeds haunted Demeter. _Anything_ used to set him off, and he still carried that dark aura around him. She froze like a rabbit before a wolf, praying he would not strike.

His appearance did nothing to quell her nerves. He wore stark, unrelieved black from head to toe. His clothes were stiff and uncomfortable, more like armor than the comforting robes the rest of them wore. His hair was black—of course. It was curly and disheveled. On anyone else she would have tried to straighten his hair, but on his it looked as though he'd just climbed out of a grave. His eyes were grey, the flat, dull grey of a death-shroud. His skin, though not as bronzed as the rest of them, still had a golden tone, surprising in one who lived underground.

Her eyes were drawn to the edge of a scar, grey against his gold skin, that began at the edge of his jaw and trailed down his neck, disappearing under his clothes. She couldn't remember if it came from Kronos' teeth, or from the weapons of the Titans. It didn't matter. She had been hurt herself during the war, and it never left a mark on her. How badly had he been hurt that it left scars on the oldest and strongest of them? Nor was that his only scar, though the others were not visible.

His shadow pooled around him, too black and solid for the light in this room. _Her_ shadow was hazy and indistinct. Hades' seemed almost to crouch at his feet. It followed his movements very closely, but not perfectly. On occasion she'd seen it reach out and _touch_ others, without Hades moving a muscle. Even holding still, it did not look _right_ to her.

His face was impassive, his dark aura tightly controlled. Even someone who knew him well could barely tell what he was thinking. Most gods who barely knew him suspected he had no emotions at all. Only his eyes gave a hint of emotion, but looking into his eyes was a dangerous feat of its own. If you gazed too long into those death-shroud eyes, you would see the manner of your own death. Demeter realized she was staring at him, and looked away quickly, swallowing hard.

The room she was in was sparsely furnished, but it was obvious what happened here. The scent of it choked the air, as if the discard clothes and rumpled sheets didn't shout it out. She was suddenly embarrassed to be bare before her eldest brother. As a rule none of the gods were body shy, but, well, Hades was different from the rest. He was never unclothed before the others, and lived an asexual life. He never had mistresses or flings like the rest of them. She supposed not too many people wanted to sleep with death. She pulled the golden sheets around her, hiding her nakedness. Hades didn't seem to notice one way or the other.

"I know I should know better," she said bitterly, "_You_ never get into these kinds of predicaments."

Hades said nothing. He was a man of few words. She remembered his voice. During the war he'd had a fearsome war-shout that struck terror into the hearts of the Titans, but since becoming the god of the Underworld, his voice turned as soft as the grave. He never raised it anymore, and that was more terrifying than Zeus' shouts. Lately he hardly spoke at all.

She dared a brief glance into his death-shroud eyes. There was a hint of something—pity? That made her feel worse. She was ashamed of her actions.

He offered his hand to her, at the same time angling his body toward the door. His invitation was clear. He would get her out of here. Tears sprang to her eyes at his silent kindness. She feared the god of the Underworld and death. He was an unnatural, inhuman, ungodly thing… but he was also her brother.

She started to gather her clothes, but paused. Instead, she drew the expensive cloth-of-gold sheets around her, and left her clothes to be discovered. Let Zeus try to explain his way out of _that_. She risked another glance at Hades' eyes. It was hard to be sure, but she thought she had a glint of amusement there. He left the room, and she followed with her head held high. She was a goddess, not some common strumpet.

Hades had his black—of course—chariot, drawn by four black—what else?—horses. But these were no ordinary mounts; they were Nightmares, carnivorous, flying horses, with red eyes, snorting fire, and dripping blood from their manes and tails. She hesitated at the sight of them. They eyed her plump flesh with hungry fascination. Hades, already standing in the chariot, sighed. Without a single word he issued the warning: _If you don't get on now, I'm leaving without you._

She jumped onto the chariot, and the Nightmares charged off before she was settled. She held on with all her strength, the wind threatening to tear the sheets from her body. What a sight they must have made, flying down from the sky palace, a vision of black and red with a gold tick clinging desperately to the back. The ride was mercifully short at the speed they were going. The Nightmares protested having to stop, rearing up, screaming, and tearing at each other. She tumbled off the back of the chariot quickly, before they could drag her down to the Underworld.

The chariot lunged forward once more, almost running her over. She jumped back barely in time, her heart pounding wildly. Soft, evil laughter met her ears. That creepy bastard liked keeping her on her toes! She watched him go with conflicted feelings. She was glad to see the back of him, but at the same time grateful for his assistance. This would be the last time she'd see him for many years.


	2. The God of Riches

**A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed my first chapter! This is one is a little longer, but still fairly short. When I wrote this, it was basically just a fanciful description of the Underworld as I imagined it, but as I was writing later chapters, Hades' past took a much darker turn than I expected, so I went back and added some introspection here. The overall story is not that dark! Most of it is very loving and fluffy. This is probably the darkest chapter in the entire story, I just wanted to give some background as to why Hades is so feared, and why he reacts in certain ways to Persephone. I also wanted to show that things are not what they seem, so when Persephone reaches the Underworld, it's going to be a bit different. Also, in case you can't tell, I had a lot of fun naming different minerals. You'll see a lot more of that when Persephone arrives.**

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**Chapter 2: The God of Riches**

Hades allowed his Nightmares to race onward, trailing blood and smoke in their wake. He reached out with his power, and the ground opened a dark chasm under them. The Nightmares plunged downward without hesitation. They passed through the realm of the earth, and emerged _elsewhere_. They flew over a vast, echoing cavern, leading the chariot ever downward. The air was dank and cold, and the only light down here came from pale fungus and the Nightmares' breaths.

They touched down and rode onward. Hades did not look around at his kingdom. His thoughts were still with his sister, Demeter. It was obvious she still feared him. He didn't blame her. In order to defeat the Titans during the war, he had become like them: a monster. When he was young he was full of rage and bitterness. It had been easy to escape into the blood. His shape transformed, so that he wasn't even recognizable anymore. There was no telling what kinds of atrocities he had committed while he raged, and killed, and feasted on the flesh of the enemy. He didn't remember most of it himself, just that awful feeling of emptiness, and trying to smother it with warfare.

There was nothing remotely good or humanoid left in him by the time the war ended. His siblings forced him back into his original shape, but it was foreign to him. They cringed away from the sight of him. The damages he had done to himself were irreversible. He was not… who he had been. He was broken inside, more closely tied to his powers than before. That was why he bore scars no one else did. That was why his shadow was unlike anything they had ever experienced.

There were times when he wondered if the other Olympians had gotten it wrong, had confused him, a monster, with their true brother. There were times when he didn't recognize any of them. He no longer had a connection to his family. He would have as gladly eaten them as ignored them. All he knew was that despite the so-called siblings standing beside him, he was alone. His soul was crying out for comfort, trying to remember his humanoid form, and they drew away from him. There were things even the gods would not countenance, and he had committed them all.

When it came time to draw lots for their father's kingdom, it was rigged from the start. Hades—if he really was Hades—as the oldest should have ruled everything. But no one would have followed him. They couldn't trust him to not revert to his old ways of death and anger. He didn't fight when he drew the Underworld. He was relieved.

In those days, the entire Underworld had been like Tartarus. It was all burning, pain, and screaming. It matched the agony in his soul. He sank to the Underworld and took his wrath out on it. It fought back at him. They attacked each other mercilessly, an unstoppable force clashing with an unmovable object. The more he fought, the more he hurt, and the greater the pain, the greater the rage.

But time heals everything, even broken gods. The Underworld was damaged almost beyond repair. It reflected himself: barren, worn down, nearly extinguished with only a faint corner that still burned with blood. He lived in the darkness for too long to remember. He tried to slip into oblivion unnoticed, but it would not take him.

And so, slowly, he began to build. The rivers and waters came first. Something odd began to happen. As he created form out of the chaos, he felt the substance of the Underworld stir at his touch. He was never quite sure if he created it, or it created him. The dead were a never ending stream always coming to his kingdom, and he was tired of sentencing everyone to Tartarus.

The fields of Asphodel came next. Let the dead lie there, as forgotten as he was! But it wasn't enough, was it? Because some people truly did deserve Tartarus, and some deserved more than to be forgotten. Eventually Elysium was made from within him. That wasn't the end. The bowels of the earth spoke to him, telling him of the mineral veins and riches contained within. He wanted no part of them, but for the first time in eons the other Olympians contacted him, and it was these riches that they sought.

He found their world to be bright, harsh and cruel compared to the darkness of his kingdom. He craved contact with the others, but could not bear their presence, just as they could not bear his. He sent up a pittance of the jewels he found, and it was enough to keep them happy with baubles. And still, he was changing. His rage, his monstrous-self had nearly destroyed the Underworld and himself alongside it. Now he learned to control it. In the lack of other companions, he found strange other gods that belonged to the Underworld, lesser than he, but still vital to his kingdom: Thanatos, the god of Death, and Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft. He made them his advisors, and what they found to be too heinous, he shunned.

Sometimes, he began to remember himself. Remember caring for his siblings in their father's belly. He supposed that meant he really was Hades, or at least he was the monster that had eaten Hades and stolen his memories. He learned to contain himself. He learned to control his shadow, that unconscious part of himself that was now extended outside his body. Just like his transformation from god to monster, his metamorphoses from monster to god was painful, irreparable. He left something of himself behind, but he would always remember what it was to be a monster. His veneer of godliness was very thin, and it didn't take much to break it.

He made mistakes at times. Those were the stories that were told in hushed whispers, that made the other gods fear him. He didn't mind the fear, because it kept the others at a distance. It kept him from hurting them. Realizing that he didn't want to hurt others was a turning point, and he regained parts of himself that he thought were lost for good. Still, something was missing.

While his brothers reproduced at a frankly alarming rate, he remained alone. As his awareness grew, so did a feeling of emptiness. He began to regret the terror others saw when they looked at him. They did not like his company, and nor did he like theirs. But he was too alone to forsake them completely. So it was for a very long time, his visits sporadic and brief. He was merely passing through when he'd noticed Demeter's distress. He did not understand the constant drive to couple the other gods had, having never experienced it himself. It seemed to him that it was rather more trouble than it was worth. But he was glad to be of service to Demeter, if only for a little time.

He dragged his mind from the past to the present, noting where he was. The Nightmares followed a broken road lined with stone piles that slowly resolved themselves into ruins. They rode through a dead town, the buildings long fallen over and crumbled. Ghosts and lost souls wandered aimlessly through forgotten streets. Some were clearly visible as people, but others were barely seen as wisps. The Nightmares did not slow down or go around the shades; they took a sadistic pleasure in running down the spirits. Some, the most coherent, were tumbled by their passage, but the less cohesive ones were not affected.

The ruins grew larger in size as they reached a more affluent area of the old town. These buildings were no better maintained than the others. One could only guess at what they used to be, homes, shops, schools. But no temples. There were no temples in the Underworld. Turning a corner, the largest ruin of all loomed above them, something that once might have been a castle to rival Zeus' sky palace. It was a sorry corpse now, ancient and decomposing.

The chariot continued past the broken castle, and they left the dead town behind them. There was only emptiness around them now, broken occasionally by a weary ghost trudging onward. The ghosts began to grow more numerous as a fog rose up around them. Still the chariot did not slow. The spirits that saw them leapt out of the way, the Nightmares snapping at their heels. The sound of moving water grew, and resolved into the steady _surrush_ of a river. The souls were gathered in a crowd now, waiting for something unseen. The mist was so thick now it was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of the carriage. The shades gave out an eerie light of their own that only made the darkness seem more complete. The breath of the Nightmares and Hades rose as rapid steam that became part of the fog.

Suddenly the bank of a river came into view. The water was liquid shadow, tiny ripples of current showing on the surface. The far side was hidden in the thick mist. Briefly a wide-bottomed boat came into view, loading new souls as they paid a single coin each to the ferryman. The Nightmares were going far too fast to stop at the edge of river. Instead they leapt into the air, dragging the chariot with them. It was an impossibly far leap; the river was over a mile across, but the Nightmares held their position, seeming to float through the air.

Abruptly the mist thinned in front of them, and they landed on the opposite river bank. Everything changed. The first river bank had been barren, cold and dark, but this one was lit cheerily—and macabrely—by thousands of torches that leant their warmth to the air. There was another town here, not worn down and broken but in good repair. The ghosts here all had definite form and were filled with purpose as they carried out their tasks.

The Nightmares and chariot had changed as well. Two of the Nightmares disappeared as if they never existed. The other two lost their fearsome appearances, and were now ordinary horses. One was a bright palomino, while the other was a shining teak bay. The chariot was no longer black, but blue streaked with gold: lapis lazuli. The spokes of the wheels were a bold carnelian red, the rims a streaked blue-green malachite.

Hades too had changed. His tight, formal clothes loosened considerably. His cloak was garnet red, and his shirt took on the blue-grey sheen of labradorite. His pants were a soft, agate grey. Tiny gemstones glinted along his collar and the hems of his shirt and clothes, lending a hint of color. Diamonds glinted as cufflinks on his sleeves. His skin took on a slightly rosier glow, looking healthier than before. His hair was still dark, but reflected the red torchlight in odd tones. Only by looking very closely could one tell that it wasn't black at all, but the darkest of sapphire blues. His eyes were no longer the dull death-shroud grey, but bright silver, lit by an inner glow.

Hades sighed and rolled his shoulders. His aura, his power, flowed out of him, no longer tightly constrained but allowed to have free rein in his domain. His shadow grew and stretched behind him, a visible manifestation of his power.

The horses trotted along a well-known path through the town. They no longer mowed down the shades, but moved at a slow enough pace to allow them to get out of the way. As before, the buildings slowly got larger, until the horses stopped before the stairs of a massive palace.

If the broken castle on the other side of the river could have rival Zeus' sky palace, then this one far surpassed it. It was built on spare, plain lines, but the building materials were very fine. The walls were fine marble of subtle sheen, inlaid with precious stones of all kinds and worked with fine metals. It could have been ostentatious, but instead everything had an understated glory. It looked ordinary until one took a second glance, and only then did the wealth of the materials become apparent.

Two people stood on the stairs of the palace, waiting for their god to arrive. Ghostly stable-hands came out to claim the chariot and horses as Hades alighted from his perch.

"My Lord," Thanatos and Hecate greeted him respectfully, inclining their heads. He nodded to them as he climbed the stairs, and they followed, careful not to step in his shadow, which—if one looked closely—did not precisely mimic his motions. For those who knew him well, his shadow was almost as good of an indication of his mood as a dog's ears and tail. Now it was blacker than usual, but also somewhat thin. He was frustrated, but also tired.

Thanatos and Hecate eyed his shadow and exchanged looks of concern. Hecate told one of the shade-servants to bring food and drink to the master's study, while Thanatos sent another ahead to make sure a fire was lit. Hades entered his study to find it warm and welcoming. A faint smile touched his lips, and his shadow appeared to relax somewhat.

Instead of going to his desk, he sat on the couch before the fire, giving a deep sigh. His shadow flexed, spread out over the couch, then returned to pool at his feet like a contented dog. He was glad to be home. The rooms furnishings had the same care as the palace. Expensive materials were used, but hidden with practical designs.

Hecate handed him a glass of warm mulled wine, which he sipped gratefully.

"How was your trip, my lord?" Thanatos ventured.

Hades snorted. "Zeus finally managed to seduce Demeter. There will be Tartarus to pay for that, mark my words." His voice was deep but soft, carrying an unmistakable power. As Demeter had noted in the sky palace, there was a trace of pity in his tone. He knew nothing good came of Zeus' dalliances.

"Did you enjoy frightening the immortals, my lord?" Hecate asked.

He made an indistinct noise in the back of his throat. Sometimes he enjoyed the fear his inspired. Sometimes he didn't. "How is it that no one ever remembers that I'm also the god of riches?" he asked rhetorically.


	3. The Raising of Persephone

**A/N: Many thanks for your reviews! To answer a couple questions, first from madame thome: His relations with Cerberus is quite friendly, as you'll see in later chapters. Cerberus is less of a monster in this one, and more of a really intelligent, three-headed dog. Second from Goddess of Sea-Wisdom: Hades was treated quite harshly, but in this story it's somewhat understandable, because he really was inhuman... ungodly... whatever when they shut him away in the Underworld. He did need that time to mature and find himself again.**

**So onto chapter 3! This is a brief overview of Persephone's life up to the point where she is taken to the Underground. Also, you get to see how Demeter's part begins to differ from the legend at this time. As a warning, there is attempted rape in this chapter, however it's more implicit than explicit. I don't tend to write things that are very graphic, but I will put warnings in the beginning of chapters like this.**

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**Chapter 3: The Raising of Persephone**

It was a little over a month before Demeter realized Zeus had left her something else besides uncomfortable memories from their tryst. She was pregnant. Despite the circumstances of the conception, she was overjoyed to become a mother. She tenderly nourished her child through her pregnancy, and once she gave birth, she was utterly in love with her daughter. She named her Kore, and vowed to keep her safe from being used as _she_ had been used. However, it was not to be. When little Kore was three, Zeus that she be presented at Mount Olympus.

Demeter took her daughter to Mount Olympus. She had a vague hope that Zeus would acknowledge her as his child, and that he might show her favor. But when Kore stood before the gathering, something else happened. Kore was a sweet, pretty child. She had good manners, but not being used to so many strangers, was shy. Silence slowly fell on the company, but it was not a good kind of silence. Demeter's motherly instincts warned her, and she looked around in alarm. The various gods and goddesses watched her darling Kore. The goddesses had various reactions to her, from friendly—Artemis and Athena—to anger: Hera. But the gods… those were the truly frightening ones. They looked on her little daughter with predatory interest.

Apollo and Hermes were the worst, but even Zeus—her own father!—had a certain lustful look in his eye. Demeter recognized that look. It was the expression he wore right before her daughter was conceived. She looked around the gathering for any sort of help, and realized her dark brother, Hades, was not there. She didn't know if it was a relief that he was absent, so that he too would not look upon her Kore with hunger, or fear because he had helped her once before.

"Her name will be Persephone," Zeus proclaimed, despite the fact that Demeter had already named her daughter Kore. She gathered Persephone-Kore to her and left. Raucous laughter rose behind her. She had the uneasy feeling that they _allowed_ her to go. She fled back to the earth, and hid her daughter in her garden. She vowed she would do whatever it took to keep Persephone safe from the other gods that would harm her.

For years Demeter kept Persephone hidden. They did not visit Mount Olympus, and did not invite other gods to come to them. Persephone grew, but secretly Demeter hoped her daughter would not be _too_ beautiful. Her powers were very similar to Demeter's, in her ability to grow things. For a time, they appeared to be forgotten by the others, but it couldn't last forever. Little girls have a way of changing into young women, and despite her mother's fears, Persephone grew up.

She did not dress in flashy clothes like the nymphs did, but instead wore humble smocks that covered her modestly. She did not wear her hair up in curls, but allowed it to be down naturally. Her eyes were a muddied green-brown color, and her hair was a dirty blond. Since she had little company besides her mother, she remained shy of others. As her eighteenth birthday passed, she began to long to see something of the world beyond her mother's garden. Demeter was very nervous whenever Persephone was out of sight, and as a growing maiden, Persephone found it stifling to never be allowed out on her own.

One day, an invitation to Mount Olympus came—for Persephone alone. She didn't understand why her mother was so fearful, or why she tried to forbid her daughter to go. However Persephone was excited at the chance to be away from her mother, to see a new place, and determined to go. She snuck out while her mother was sleeping. Apollo's golden sun chariot was waiting to take her. She was excited but nervous; she had never done anything like this before.

Once there, she found several gods waiting for her. Only now that she was here did she recall vague, frightening memories from when she was younger. The company of gods was loud and boisterous. They plied her with drink and food, and once her head was muddled, they began to ply themselves to her. She had enough of her wits to push them away, but they only laughed, and came back with more force. They hurt her with their strong grips, and their hands groped painfully at her chest and body. Crying, she fought them back again.

This time they held her down, but an argument broke out over who would take her first. While they fought, she tore away from them and ran. She ran from the palace, ran from Mount Olympus. She had not the power to transport herself, so she fell a long distance. Her dress was ripped both by gods and the land, her body sore and bleeding. Her stomach churned with the drink they had forced on her. She ran until her feet bled with every footstep. Her mother was right! She should have never trusted any other god!

The ground suddenly gave beneath her, and she fell into water. It was freezing cold, the current very fast as it threw her against rocks and snags. She struggled against the current, but it dragged her down mercilessly. She thought she was going die in the river. Something grabbed her around her middle, pulling her through the water. She was too weak to resist it. All her air was spent, and her lungs burned. Blackness flickered at the edge of her vision when her head broke the water again.

She gasped for air, barely noticing that she had been dragged to the shore. She collapsed on the ground, wounded and too exhausted to cry. She shivered helplessly, unable to feel any warmth. She mouthed, "Mother… please…" many times, but had not the strength to call out louder. She was frightened she would die here, or worse, that the gods would find her and finish what they started.

There was a touch to the top of her head. She screamed and threw herself away from the stranger, nearly toppling back into the water again. A man stood over her. She didn't know what god he was, but she had a great mistrust of all of them. In her state, she couldn't possible resist if he tried to take her.

But the man rocked back on his heels, raising his hands in a gesture of no harm. Trembling and gulping for air, she held her broken, sodden smock to her and studied him. He was dark, nearly solid black from head to toe. His shadow was coiled weirdly at his feet, not at all matching his position. It seemed to _yearn_ toward her, and she shivered. His eyes were flat grey, like the cloth bodies were wrapped in for burial. His golden skin was lighter than the other gods' had been, and _was that a scar?_ She had never seen a god with a scar before.

She had never seen him before either. She would have remembered if this dark god had been one of the ones to push themselves on her. In the next moment, she threw herself at his feet. She landed in the middle of his shadow, and it recoiled from her, creating a space of light around her.

"Help me, please," she begged him, clutching at his cloak. It was dangerous to trust anyone, but he was not part of her attempted rape, and had not thus far forced himself on her. It had to mean something, right? "Please, help me! The other gods…" she couldn't speak of it, and began trembling uncontrollably. She buried her face in his cloak. He crouched down, resting only the tips of his fingers on her back. She flinched at even that small contact, and he removed his touch. His shadow slowly closed around her, and though it didn't touch the ground under her, somehow draped over her. She felt a little warmer.

"Kore!"

Her mother's voice was the best thing she ever heard. She raised her head and shouted, "Mom!"

Demeter came running toward them, only to skid to a halt as she saw them. Persephone realized what it must look like. Here she was, battered, torn, soaking wet, with the dark god crouched over her.

"It-it's not what you think," she stammered. "He didn't—" She remembered the thing that had pulled her from the water. His clothes were dry, but his _living_ shadow was a faint, tangible presence on her back. "He saved me!"

She glanced up at the dark god. "You did, didn't you?" she asked quietly. "You pulled me from the water."

His chin tilted down a bare fraction of an inch, the smallest nod she'd ever seen. She looked into his death-shroud eyes and wondered why he didn't speak.

"Kore, baby, what happened to you?" Demeter called anxiously. Persephone looked away from the dark god. Her eyes filled with tears. She released the stranger's cloak and staggered to her mother. The man stood, and his shadow fell from off her shoulders. She felt colder without it. Then she was in Demeter's arms.

"M-Mom," she sobbed. "It was awful! They were going to—They—" The story came out in painful gasps. Demeter held her, rocking her and stroking her hair.

"My Kore, my poor baby," she murmured. Slowly Persephone's tears quieted. She glanced around for the dark god. He was still there, to her surprise. His eyes showed a deep anger. His shadow had changed again. It was blacker than black, and huge. It didn't have a humanoid shape anymore, but something with claws and spines. She hid her face against her mother's neck.

"Hades… thank you," Demeter said.

It took Persephone a moment to realize she was talking to the dark god. Hades! So that was who the stranger was. He was the god she knew the least about. Demeter refused to talk about him, but Athena and Artemis had told her hair-raising stories about the Lord of the Underworld. Looking at his shadow, she believed them. She shivered. And then she heard something even more frightening on the wind: the voices of the other gods, calling out for her. She cried out and clung tightly to Demeter.

"Don't let them take me, Mom!" she whimpered.

"You should go," said a quiet voice she'd never heard before. It sent chills down her spine, but not in fear. She understood why Hades hardly spoke, even though she wished he spoke more so she could roll around in that deep, velvet tone. His voice was laced with power, the kind of power that Zeus only aspired to when he shouted. And this was a quiet tone. What would a shout from Hades be like? She thought even Mount Olympus was tremble if he shouted.

"I'll hold them off," he said, and she believed him with every particle of her being. Demeter gathered her closer, and then paused.

"Please, Mom, let's go," she begged. She could hear the gods getting closer, and her teeth chattered with cold and fear. But the elder goddess turned to Hades instead.

"I can't protect her, can I?" Demeter asked very softly. Persephone looked at Hades. He didn't answer, but his dull eyes held a great sadness, and pity. She felt her heart sink. No matter how much Demeter loved her and tried to keep her safe, the other gods would get to her eventually. It was inevitable. She was filled with shivering terror. Was this to be her fate? To be raped by her father and half-brothers?

Demeter approached Hades. His shadow shifted to make room for her. "But _you_ could protect her," she said urgently.

Hades' head went back, but on him it might as well have been a shout of surprise. He raised his hands in refusal, but Demeter was insistent.

"Please! If you took her to the Underworld, they couldn't reach her there! You're not like the others. You don't take mistresses, and you don't abuse those under you. I _know_ you can do it!"

Hades was still shaking his head. He'd stay to defend her, but he wouldn't take responsibility for her. He was the only one strong enough to defy the other gods!

She raised her face and whispered, "Please."

She looked into his death-shroud eyes. They were so easy to read, full of frustration and pity. She suddenly understood something about him then. For all the fearsome stories she had heard about him, none of them mentioned his kindness. Without kindness, he wouldn't have pulled her from the river, or be angry on her behalf, or show that pity in his expressive eyes.

He huffed a sigh, and reached out to take her. It was awkward transferring from her mother to this stranger. She had begged him for help, but she didn't know him. She had never been held by a man before, and her recent experience with the opposite gender had not been pleasant. As if sensing her uneasiness, he loosened his grip, almost holding her away from his body.

She felt his power surge. There was a booming crack, and out of a fissure in the ground rose a black chariot pulled by terrifying Nightmares. She recoiled in fear from the horrifying beasts. Lying against the dark god was preferable to being eaten by those… _things!_

Demeter reached out and grabbed Hades' arm, clearly having doubts about giving her daughter to the god of the Underworld. Persephone held her breath, not sure if she wanted her mother to let her go or to take her back. The latter would lead to rape by the other gods, but the former was completely unknown.

"Just, promise me you won't hurt her," Demeter begged.

"I won't hurt her," Hades intoned in his soft voice, and his word was his bond. Demeter released his arm. He stepped into the chariot and placed Persephone at his feet. The Nightmares lunged forward with a vicious jerk. She would have fallen out the back but for Hades' shadow. It wrapped around her as securely as a net, and provided a little warmth as well. She screamed as the chariot seemed to fall through the air. They landed with a bone-jarring _thud_, and that was the limit for her exhausted body. Darkness closed around her, and consciousness fled.


	4. The Saving of Persephone

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed or faved my story! You really make my day. I'm grateful for the positive feedback you're giving me. Now onto the first of the longer chapters. I how you really like this one, it's very Hades-centric, and sets the tone for the rest of the story. Warning: much fluff ahead!  
**

**Chapter 4: The Saving of Persephone**

_What am I doing?_ Hades wondered for the thirteenth time since taking Persephone into his arms. His horses, still in their Nightmare disguises, followed the familiar path through the dead town at the beginning of the Underworld. The young goddess was unconscious at his feet, held on only by his shadow. She was so pale, so slight…

What _was_ he doing? He was the god of the Underworld, not a bodyguard for maidens! Nor was he like his brothers and nephews, to chase after any bit of skirt that pleased him. The other males in his family were the ones known for abducting women. _He_ purposefully stayed out of those situations! Why had he agreed to this? He owed them nothing!

But here he was, with Demeter's innocent daughter in his chariot, while he carried her off to his lair. It wasn't like he _stole_ her, he told himself. Demeter begged him to take her. Even Persephone had said _please._

When he had seen the pale thing in the water, he reacted without thinking. His shadow reached out and plucked it from the river. It could have been a sack of drowned kittens, or someone's washed-away laundry for all he knew. But it wasn't. It was a maiden, a young goddess, in fact. Her body showed her hard use, and he could guess what had happened.

After hearing her tale, he was surprised she had escaped with her maidenhead intact. Knowing his family, it wouldn't stay like that much longer. It shouldn't have bothered him to hear her all too common story. But it _angered_ him. It made him want to do something to protect her. He alone could have withstood his family's wrath while Demeter and Persephone made their escape. But that wasn't what happened, was it?

He was unsure of his motives. He had seen his brothers cavorting with goddesses and mortals alike without interfering, so why was this time different? Was it because he saw her pain first-hand, or was he driven by more… carnal desires?

He'd tried not to look on her slender form, but her dress had been badly damaged. He saw quite a bit of flesh, and could have seen more with little effort. He prided himself in not being so easily distracted as the rest of his family, but he was lying if he said he didn't feel tempted!

So he tried to think of her as young, which was true, and virginal, which was also true, and _not for him_, which was where he struggled. Demeter had _given_ her to him. Any other god would take that as a blatant invitation, especially when the maiden herself said _please_. But he told himself he was not like the others. He had a measure of control over himself. He would not give up his peace of mind for a few moments of pleasure.

He promised Demeter he wouldn't hurt her daughter. He clung to that vow. Not hurting her meant not forcing himself upon her, no matter what his body felt. He would keep her safe, even from himself.

_It isn't force if she is willing…_ his mind treacherously whispered, and he groaned. No, he must not think about that. She was hardly going to be willing! For one, someone did not leap from the trauma she had experienced into a strange man's arms overnight. For two, he was old. Really old, compared to her. A young maiden wanted someone near her own age, not someone as weary as him. For three, she was young, too young to know what she wanted in life. Four, and this was a big one: he was the god of the Underworld, the ruler of death. A maiden was life personified. She wouldn't want anything to do with an old, dead thing like him.

He was still listing reasons why exploring his attraction to the young goddess was a very bad idea when the Nightmares made the leap over the river. Persephone was still unconscious, and missed the transformation from cold to warmth. He was oddly disappointed that he didn't get to see her reaction. Most people thought the first part of the Underworld was all there was. He rarely allowed others past the river, and they only saw what he wanted them to see. Most believed he lived in that broken heap of a castle.

He urged his horses faster, concerned that Persephone had greater injuries than he'd seen. Within a few minutes he pulled up in front of his actual palace. Thanatos and Hecate were waiting for him like usual. They were shocked when he gathered the pale goddess in his arms and leapt from the chariot.

"What have you done?" Hecate asked unwisely.

His temper flared. His shadow loomed up behind him, huge and dark. "What have _I_ done?" he demanded. "Better ask what did the others do to her? Or what _I_ will do to them when they are within reach. _I_ pulled her from the water where she had been left to drown like an unwanted puppy! _I_ brought her here to be safe. Her own mother begged me to have her!"

Thanatos and Hecate both bowed deeply, holding the pose while he quivered in anger. He wanted to lash out at them. Holding Persephone in his arms was effecting him unexpectedly. He felt deeply protective of her, and a strange tenderness that made him want to cradle her against him forever. And that was a very bad thing, given all the reasons he'd already listed. He took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down.

"I apologize, my lord," Hecate told his feet. "I spoke in haste. I realize it is not in your nature to harm an innocent."

No, it wasn't. And he had sworn not to harm this innocent in particular.

"Rise," he said stiffly. Both of his advisors straightened.

"She is in need of your healing arts, Hecate," he said, a note of vulnerability creeping into his tone. He saw surprise on both of their faces, and cursed himself silently. Hecate stepped forward.

"May I see her?"

Reluctantly he passed his burden to the goddess of witches. He thought once he was no longer holding her, he would no longer feel that protective anger, or the longing to comfort her. He was wrong. He was in so much trouble. Unable to relinquish her completely, he ordered needlessly, "Get her cleaned up and warm. Change her into something more decent. Prepare a room for her, but put her in my study for now." He didn't know why he was instructing Hecate, who knew better than him how to deal with his charge, but she didn't take offense.

"Aye, my lord," she agreed, and began walking away to carry out his orders. His shadow stretched after her, and it took conscious effort to pull it back.

"Who is she?" Thanatos asked quietly.

"Persephone, by Zeus, out of Demeter," he replied absently.

"She is _not_ a filly," Thanatos said sharply.

Hades gave him a blank look. "What?"

"You gave her bloodline like she is a horse you intend to breed," the man eyed his master speculatively. His eyebrows shot up as a faint blush showed on Hades' face.

"It isn't like that," Hades heard the defensiveness in his own voice and winced. It would only strengthen Thanatos' conviction.

"Isn't it?" Thanatos asked.

"No," he said firmly. "It isn't possible. She's a goddess of spring, and I am the god of death. Do you think she could love something like me?" Too late he heard what he said, but there was no way to take back the word _love_. He did not love Persephone, he told himself. He didn't know her. But if she ever looked favorably on him…

Thanatos sucked in a startled breath, but only said mildly, "I am Death, my lord."

"You are my weapon, but I am the hand that wields you," Hades said, regret thick in his voice. "It isn't possible." He stalked into his palace, following the path that Hecate took with his charge. He was a cursed fool, and he knew it. Demeter should have never given her daughter to him. No one trusted the god of the Underworld, and in his affection-starved existence, the tiny faith placed in him caused havoc on his emotions.

Thanatos fell into step beside him. "If she would not welcome the god of the Underworld, would she not be more willing for the god of riches?"

"If her head was turned by riches, would you think her a worthy mate?" Hades responded. He had already considered it, and by his friend's silence, he knew Thanatos agreed with him. Hades sent the other man away so he would stop hovering, and waited outside his study. He could hear voices inside, but made no effort to listen in. He was enough of a criminal that he didn't need to add eavesdropping to his list. He was glad the maiden was no longer unconscious.

After a few minutes Hecate came out. Hades looked up, his heart in his eyes. She did a small double take, and then had a hard time concealing a gleeful smile.

"She is awake, and asking for you," she said, and left before he could ask any more questions. Shaking his head at her reaction, he entered his study. Persephone was sitting demurely on the couch before the fire. She stared into the hearth, her hands clasped in her lap. She looked forlorn, and his heart went out to her. No matter that she had asked for help, she was still a maiden in a strange place, with no one but strangers for company. What had he done by bringing her here?

He coughed softly to get her attention. She looked at him with tears in her green-brown eyes. It was a kick in the chest. _He_ had put those tears there. She stood from the couch and faced him, dashing away her tears. She wore what was obviously one of Hecate's dresses. The garment was sleeveless, with wide straps holding it up, and resembled an amethyst crystal: pale lavender on top, darkening to deep violent on the bottom. It would have been pretty on her, save that Hecate was of a rather more matronly figure, and the dress was loose on Persephone's form.

"Lord Hades," she greeted him in a subdued voice, and dipped into a low curtsy. He had to look away quickly. When she bent over, the too-large dress gaped open in the front, tantalizing him with more flesh than she intended him to see. He kept his eyes on the ceiling until he noticed the motion of her straightening.

"I would like to thank you for the care you've shown me," she continued thickly. He suppressed a shudder. She should not thank him until she knew the cost of his _care_. He shook his head sharply and corrected his thoughts. No, there was no cost for being her protector. He was not going to make demands of her, simply for being in a position of need. He realized she was waiting for a reply. Since she had addressed him formally, he would return the favor.

"Lady Persephone," he bowed in greeting. He needed to remember that she was indeed a lady, a goddess, and deserved to be treated as such. She was not here for his personal amusement.

"I would bid you welcome to my kingdom," he continued, striving for a gracious tone. It was unfamiliar to him, and he wasn't sure he got it right. "And I hope that you find every comfort here. I apologize for not having a room ready for you, but assure you one is being prepared currently. I expect Hecate will shortly inform us when it is done. If there is anything you require, you have but to ask myself or one of my servants, and it will be provided for you."

He was rambling. This slip of a young goddess had reduced him into rambling like a mortal before Zeus. He was an idiot. He saw her tears, her innocently offered wares, and started spilling out words as if sheer quantity could provide her comfort.

"I apologize for the abrupt manner of our arrival; it can be harsh to those who are not accustomed to it…" he trailed off slowly. She stared at him like he'd grown as many heads as Cerberus. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"My lady…?" he inquired.

"You're talking," she said in apparent surprise.

His throat closed, and torture could not have induced him to utter a single sound more. He had forgotten. When he visited outside of his kingdom, he did not speak much for how his voice seemed to frighten others. But in his home, everyone was used to the way he sounded, and he spoke without hesitation. He gave a shallow bow with his hands spread in apology, reverting to the silent communication he used above ground.

"No, you don't have to stop," she said quickly. "I like your voice."

She blushed. He stared in fascination. He liked her blush. He wanted to touch her cheeks. He liked her body. He wanted to touch— He needed to get hold of himself before he acted on his impulses.

"Are you well, Lady Persephone?" he asked in what he hoped was a polite tone. "Was Hecate able to soothe your injuries?" Too late he realized that might be a too personal question, given what she had been through.

But she smiled bravely and said, "I am well. Thank you for her services, she was a great aid to me."

"I'm glad to hear that," he smiled back at her. Warmth grew in his chest. It was a pressure that urged him to act. Instead of stepping forward to take her in his arms, he moved to his desk. He shuffled his correspondence while he gathered his composure. When he thought he could face her again, he turned back to her. His eyes widened in horror. She had gone to the side table, picked up an apple, and was in the act of bringing it to her mouth.

"No!" he called sharply, crossing the room in a bound. He struck the fruit from her hands. It fell to the floor, bounced, and rolled away. Persephone recoiled from him, clutching her hands to her chest. Hades cursed himself silently. Did he hurt her? Had he already broken his vow?

"I am so sorry, Lady Persephone," he said in a low tone, trying not to scare her worse. "Did I hurt you?" His heart was pounding at the near miss. It would have been much worse he if had allowed her to take that bite.

She stared at him, trembling in fear. After a moment, she slowly shook her head. She extended her hands; they quavered slightly. She quickly clenched her fingers to steady them.

"No, I am unharmed," she whispered. He eyed her, not sure he believed her statement when she spoke in such a timid voice. He wanted to take her hands in his and rub the sting away.

"I should have warned you earlier," he said regretfully, resisting the impulse to go to her. She would not welcome him. "Do not eat the food from here. Those that eat food from the land of the dead cannot remain in the land of the living. If you took a bite of the apple, I could not return you to your mother, and that would make me a very poor host. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her face paling. Her eyes filled with tears, making him certain he had said something wrong.

"Please, Lord Hades," she began, and he would have granted her anything when she spoke in that sweet tone. "My mother, do you think she is alright?"

So that was what was bothering her. She was concerned for the mother they left behind to face the gods alone.

"Demeter is a powerful goddess," he said firmly. "They would be very foolish to try to harm her." It was clear the worst they could do to Demeter was inflict pain on her daughter, but Persephone was safely out of their reach. Demeter was free to unleash her wrath without fear of what they might do to her daughter. Hades smirked slightly. Watching Demeter's vengeance could be very entertaining.

Persephone did not share his confidence. She nodded, but remained downcast. She sat on the couch again, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly. He yearned for her too much to not offer comfort. He sat carefully on the couch, keeping a healthy distance between them. She didn't acknowledge him. He reached out and placed his hand on her bare shoulder. She flinched and looked at him with stark terror.

"Please don't be like the others," she begged.

He jerked back from her. The other gods, she meant. She was asking him not to force her. He leapt up from the couch. Now he knew what she really thought of him. He tried to offer comfort, and she thought he was trying to seduce her. He was hurt, angry, and disappointed in himself because some part of him wanted to say to Tartarus with everything, and take her already. He couldn't bear to be in her presence for another moment, and strode for the door. Only _her_ desperate plea could have stopped him.

"Please don't leave me!"

He halted, facing the door, his fists clenched at his side. His need to get out of there warred with his desire to be close to her.

"I don't want to be alone," she whispered.

That was easily solved, he thought. He could still leave, and send Hecate in to keep her company. Or he could remain, and provide the company himself… He was still debating each option when she made the choice for him. He heard her rise from the couch. His body stiffened as if expecting pain. She approached and stood behind him.

"I'm sorry," she said humbly, and then she touched him. Her fingers rested on the small of his back, spreading warmth to his whole body from that light contact. He didn't turn around. He couldn't remember the last time someone willingly touched him. He didn't trust himself to face her without taking her in his arms. She was already being brave to come to him, and he didn't want to frighten her away again.

"I know you're not like the others," she continued. "You are too kind to use me."

If only she knew! But he remained silent, trapped in her presence as securely as if she bound him with chains. She trapped him further when she slipped under his arm and leaned into his side. His breath caught in his throat as he felt her softness against him. He glanced down and jerked his eyes away. That dress was gaping open again, affording him a very lovely and indecent view.

His breathing turned ragged. She was entirely unaware of the effect she had on him. He remained stiff, for if he relaxed for a moment he'd do something he'd regret. Nor was Persephone done torturing him. Gradually she leaned more on him. Her trust broke him when she rested her cheek on his chest. Could she hear how his heart pounded? Did she realize that it beat for her? His arm curved around her waist helplessly. He could have no more stopped himself than he could have made the sun rise. He was not Apollo, and he could not resist the maiden at his side. His shadow curled gingerly around her bare feet, and when she didn't protest, began to flow up her legs. He stopped himself well below the hem of her dress. He wanted to hold her, not molest her.

She swayed in place. He looked down at her, striving to keep his gaze on her face and out of her dress. Her eyes were closed, and deep lines of exhaustion covered her face. _Poor lady,_ he thought in sympathy. After all she had been through, she was nearly asleep on her feet. She pressed to him so that he was nearly the only thing holding her up.

"Lady Persephone," he began. He had every intention of waking her up so she could go to her room. Or, since Hecate had not yet announced that it was ready, so he could offer her his bed, with him in it— No! With_out_ him in it! Looking at her face though, he knew it was beyond him to disturb her.

"I'm going to pick you up," he said instead, though he didn't know if she really heard him. _I'm going to carry you to my bed, where I will lie down beside you and hold you all night long_— He sucked in a deep breath as he realized his thoughts had once again turned to bed. After centuries of chaste abstinence, a single goddess was his undoing! Although… holding her was a good deal more considerate than what the others gods would do to her if she were in their beds. Perhaps his reaction was more platonic than he'd realized? He consulted his body. Nope, those were definitely not platonic feelings he was experiencing. Still, he supposed it said something that his impulses were somewhat more civil to her than he'd expected.

Simply looking at her gave him the answer. He wanted her body, yes, but he also wanted her mind and spirit. He wanted to know what sparked her interest, what made her smile. None of his brothers or nephews wanted more than momentary pleasure from her. He wanted everything. He hung his head in despair. He was so screwed.

Her knees buckled as she slid deeper into sleep. He caught her and cradled her to his chest. The protective feeling was back, but now it was accompanied by a fine ache. He knew he would never have her. This might be as close as he ever got to hold her while she was here. He made his way to the couch. He tried to set her down so he could leave and nurse his heartache alone, but she clung to him. He couldn't free himself without disturbing her, and he was loathe to do that.

So he sat on the couch as well, the sweet goddess' torso cradled in his lap. She gave a deep sigh that echoed in his heart. He found he didn't know what to do with his hands. He couldn't set them down without touching her, but he wasn't sure his touch was allowed. He debated painfully before shrugging. Did it matter? He was already touching her. A little more contact would hardly bother her. In the end, it was only himself that would hurt.

He placed one hand on her silky hair, brushing it back from her face. At first he thought it was a dirty blond color, but as he started to _really_ look at her, he realized it was more than that. It was a multitude of colors, lighter blond strands on top, bleached by her exposure to the sun, with progressively darker layers underneath. He saw dark blond, and even red-brown, as if her hair contained every color there was. From a distance it looked unremarkable, but as he watched the firelight play over it, he thought it was the most beautiful hair color he'd ever seen.

If there was an Elysian fields for him, he suspected this was it: holding Persephone while she slept, being able to feel her hair and skin with his hands. His other hand hovered over her uncertainly. Her dress was open again. He could see everything. His fingers trembled as he reached down… and pulled the material to cover her. He breathed a sigh, not sure if it was relief or regret. He rested his hand on her arm, marveling at her soft texture, the small muscles underneath.

_I will protect you,_ he thought to her. _I will protect you for as long as you'll let me, no matter how much it hurts to be close and not have you…_

She slept on, oblivious of his regard.


	5. Conversations at the Door

**A/N: Many thanks for your reviews! I'm glad that people seem to like this story and how I've portrayed the characters. This chapter is super short, I'm sorry for that, but I liked this piece better on its own than in with another chapter. I hope you at least enjoy this glimpse into what others think of Persephone.**

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**Chapter 5: Conversations at the Door**

In the meanwhile, there was a flurry of whispers right outside the door.

"What do you think of her?" Thanatos asked, keeping his voice down to avoid detection.

"It's hard to tell, she was pretty traumatized," Hecate answered in the same low tone.

"He's serious about this one. You should have seen his face when you took the girl," Thanatos said grimly.

"I know, I saw when I came out of the room. Do you think it's just because he found her in a vulnerable moment, or is there more to it?" Hecate wondered.

"I don't know, but I've never seen him this defensive over someone."

"That could go either way; he probably feels guilty over bringing her down here, and he's sympathetic to what happened to her."

"What _did_ happen to her?"

Hecate pursed her lips in anger. "It wasn't rape, but it wasn't for lack of trying. She was lucky to get away."

"And fall right into his arms. You don't suppose it was a set up?"

"Those injuries are real. It's not just physical, mentally she's pretty torn up as well. You can't fake something like that."

"I really hope this is genuine."

"I know, imagine if they're in love?"

"Already? Do you think that's possible?"

"For what it's worth, she didn't seem frightened. At least not of being here. She might be a little man-wary though, and who could blame her? She's mostly in shock right now."

"He's worried she won't be attracted to him, or will choose him for the wrong reasons."

"She's got to be better than that nymph," Hecate snorted.

"Minthe never stood a chance," Thanatos agreed.

"And she would have been a terrible queen. For what it's worth, this girl said please and thank you, once I got her talking."

Thantos sighed. "That's another thing he's worried about. She's too young. He has to think of her as a woman, not a girl."

"She _is_ a woman, just a very young one, and unsure of herself."

"If she's too docile, she'll never stand up for herself. He'll be miserable trying to make her happy."

"If she didn't have a spark in her, she would have never gotten away. Give her time before you write her off completely."

"I don't hear anything, do you suppose we should go in now?"

Hecate grinned evilly. "What if they're…?" She waggled her eyebrows.

Thanatos recoiled. "Seriously?"

She laughed. "That's not the kind of energy I sense in there right now, though there were a couple moments…"

"Is it only physical for him?"

"I suspect it's deeper. And for the record, it wasn't _only_ from him. Give me a minute, and I'll see what's happening in there. Her room is ready now, and we'll know whether we should step in or not." She began making gestures as if pulling something from the air. Purple-black energy gathered around her hands. She framed a section of the door with her fingers and an image appeared as if a window had grown there. She picked up the image and studied it. Her face softened.

"Aww…" she said softly. Thanatos looked over her shoulder. Persephone was sleeping on the couch, draped over Hades' lap. There was a look of tender wonder on his face.

"Damn," Thanatos sighed. "He's lost already. If this goes bad…"

"It will go really bad," Hecate confirmed. "Still…"

"Still…" Thanatos agreed. "I think we should leave them."

"I agree. Who knows what the next few days will bring? We should give them this moment." Hecate banished the image, and exchanged a long look with Thanatos. Both of them had the best of hopes for their lord, but feared the outcome if things went sour. It was out of their hands though. Their dreams for Hades rested in the hands of the sleeping maiden.


	6. A Tour of the Underworld

**A/N: Oops, I forgot it was Friday! I had to get up at the crack of dawn to play sheepdog for a school project. Literally. I had lambs chewing on my pants, and big ewes leaning on me looking for treats. I'm an RVT (Registered Veterinary Technichian) student, in case you can't tell, and our project is to entertain sheep. I actually quite enjoy it. The first project was pigs. I really hate pigs. Except as bacon. 'Nuff said. *cough***

**Anyway, thanks for your reviews! I was worried the last chapter was a bit too short, but it seems people enjoyed it. This chapter is quite a bit longer, and we finally get some solid Hades and Persephone moments. I really hope you like it!**

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**Chapter 6: Picnic with Hades**

Persephone woke alone and confused. Where was she? What had happened? She remembered the feast of the gods, and panicked. What had they done to her? Did they find her after all? Her heart pounded in terror, and she huddled on the bed, feeling lost and violated. No, she fought them off, she recalled slowly. She ran from them, and fell in the river, and—

_Lord Hades!_ He pulled her from the river! He'd saved her, and brought her to the Underworld to keep her safe. She felt the sudden urge to see him, to make sure he was real and had really taken her away from the other gods. Part of her still wondered if she wasn't trapped in a nightmare after the gods took her, and this was just her mind's escape. Only seeing Lord Hades would confirm that she was awake and safe.

She sprang from the bed and stumbled to the door. To her relief, it wasn't locked. She opened it without looking, and ran into someone who'd been about to enter. She recoiled from the person, before realizing it was the woman who had helped her clean up yesterday. Instantly she threw herself at Lady Hecate, breaking into loud sobs.

If Lady Hecate was startled by her reaction, she did a good job of handling it. The older goddess propelled them into the room and sat on the bed, half-carrying the distraught maiden. A wisp of power closed the door behind them.

"There, there," Lady Hecate patted her back firmly. "There, there. Let it out and tell Hecate what the problem is."

"I'm s-sorry," Persephone stammered. "I j-just woke alone and I w-was afraid."

Lady Hecate tensed. "You were afraid of the Underworld?"

Persephone slowly regained control of her breathing. She shook her head. "I w-was afraid this was a d-dream, th-that I was still w-with _them_." She shuddered in revulsion.

Lady Hecate sighed in relief. "No, child, you're safe here. I assure you Lord Hades would not allow anyone to hurt you here."

She looked up at the mention of the dark god. "Lord Hades," she asked shyly. "Could I see him?"

The goddess of witchcraft gave a pleased smile. "Why don't we get you cleaned up, and I will take you to him."

The room Persephone was in was actually quite beautiful. It was decorated in pale greens, with agate in the walls, marble on the floors, and furniture carved from massive pieces of jade, aventurine, emerald, tourmaline, peridot, and moldavite. A grey-white pelt on the floor kept her feet from the chilly stone. There were gauzy curtains laced with superfine filaments of silver. The bedspread was silver and green, with silver silk sheets. The colors and design of the room were pleasing to her eye, but when she took a closer look at the materials she came away shaking. When she realized how much _wealth_ was tied up in a simple chryoprase cup—let alone the four-poster bed, vanity, side table, chairs, and wardrobe, all made from precious and semi-precious stones—she almost stopped breathing.

She was afraid to touch anything, and aghast at the casual way Lady Hecate treated everything. Persephone was a simple spring goddess; this was a chamber fit for Zeus himself, though feminine in design. What had she done to deserve this? She would have been happier in a simple wooden cottage. For some reason, Lady Hecate approved of her reaction.

Persephone was wary of the white-blue larimar colored dress that Lady Hecate brought for her to wear. It was very pretty, but she didn't want to wear something that was worth as much gold as a king's tribute to Poseidon. Lady Hecate laughed at her, making her feel very young and foolish. She hunched her shoulders uncertainly, wishing she could go home and hide in her room. But no, if she went home, the other gods would surely find her. It was in the Underworld alone that she was safe. If only she could see Lord Hades!

Lady Hecate realized she'd made Persephone uncomfortable, and apologized. With much coaxing, she persuaded the maiden to put on the dress. Once again, it was made for the larger woman, and draped loosely around her. Persephone tried a curtsy for Lady Hecate's approval. Lady Hecate began laughing again, and rose to adjust the dress.

"Let's not torture him _too_ much now," she chortled mysteriously. Persephone had no idea what she was talking about. Lady Hecate tugged the dress securely around the young goddess' body, and artfully pinned it in place with jeweled skewers. Persephone eyed the skewers suspiciously, but decided she didn't want to know if they were as lavish as she suspected. Lady Hecate was finally satisfied with her appearance, and agreed to take her to Lord Hades.

Outside her room, Persephone was suddenly overcome with shyness. Her room had been comforting and safe with its cool pastel colors. The hallway seemed too wide, and was decorated in bold, dark hues, lit by the flickering orange-red light of torches. Semi-transparent people walked past them, and she shuddered as she realized they were the shades of the dead. She felt too exposed, like there was nowhere safe for her. She flinched at every shade that passed, especially the males. She tried to remember that she was a goddess of power, but all she could remember was the other gods pawing at her.

A sob lodged in her throat as she caught up with Lady Hecate. The woman seemed safe, barely. Persephone grabbed her hand and walked almost on her heels. The goddess of witchcraft didn't complain, but nor did she offer comfort as Demeter would have. She missed her mom. She missed feeling happy and secure in her own home. Was there nothing that could make her feel safe again?

They walked down corridors that all seemed the same to Persephone, through a maze of passages. She was hopelessly lost. She kept close to Lady Hecate, feeling that she could wander around until she died of starvation if they were separated. Finally they came to a halt before a set of huge, blue-black sodalite doors. They were carved in bas relief, and she stared in fascination, forgetting her fear for the moment. The top showed people in a kind of paradise of endless gardens and joy. The middle section was smaller than the other, and showed people drinking from a river, neither happy nor sad. But the bottom… her eyes widened in horror. Life-like flames licked up eternally, devouring people with frozen agony on their faces. Within the flames were other… creatures, chained and raging against their punishment. Titans, she realized.

"Behold the gates of the dead," Lady Hecate intoned solemnly. "All dead pass within and are judged according to their deeds, to be consigned to one of the three realms."

"Elysium, Asphodel, or Tartarus," she whispered. She felt humbled to stand before these doors, and know who was behind them. How had she managed to gain the protection of such a powerful god?

"Even so," Lady Hecate agreed. "Now behold our lord and master." She swung open one of the doors. It was silent on its hinges, giving them a moment to observe without being seen. This was Hades' throne room. It was like a cathedral with pillars, carved walls, and soaring arches overhead. A line of ghosts waiting to be judged stretched along one wall. At the far end of the room was dais with an ornate throne on it. And on that throne—

Persephone couldn't breathe. Lord Hades sat there, wearing black robes of judgement. His face was stern as he regarded the shade of an old man petitioning in the middle of the room. She had never seen a being of such _majesty_. He didn't have Zeus' boyish charm or Poseidon's capricious smirk, but he was greater than they. His dull grey eyes judged the old man and his voice was soft and final as he pronounced, "Asphodel."

The old man bowed, and as he did his substance seemed to dissolve, until he was no more. Before a new spirit could take his place, Lord Hades lifted his gaze to Persephone. She felt their weight, and thought her heart would stop. Here was a god worthy of respect. Here was a king she would obey without question. And then he smiled, and she saw him as a man she could trust.

It was like a film was lifted from her eyes. Warmth suffused her from his smile. She was honored that somehow, the sight of her made him smile. He stood from his throne, removing his black robes and laying them on the seat. Under them he wore a citrine-colored shirt and hematite pants. He descended from the dais and began walking toward them. When he was a dozen feet from them, something broke inside of her, and she moved forward to greet him.

Like when she had tried to run out of her room in a panic, she went too fast and crashed into him. She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself. His hands came around her waist. Their heat soaked into her, and she gave a relieved sob.

"Lord Hades," she breathed out the last of her insecurities. He was here. She was safe. Before she knew what she was doing she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and hugged him tightly. His body was awkwardly stiff, but his heart pounded under her ear.

"Lady Persephone," he greeted her, his voice rumbling pleasantly in his chest. "Are you alright?"

He smelled of smoke and shadows and _age_, that must scent that comes from ancient caverns that never saw the light of day. She nodded, and became embarrassed as she realized how close she was to him. She backed off, looking for Lady Hecate to stand by. The goddess of witches was gone. Persephone squeaked and stepped close to Lord Hades again, clutching his arm. His eyes—no long dull but bright as silver—flashed and he pulled her against him.

"What frightens you?" he asked sharply.

"N-nothing, my lord," she blushed with her stammer. "Only, I find that I become scared when I am alone, and I know only you in this place."

He looked around as well. The throne room had quietly emptied while she greeted him, and they were alone. He coughed, and loosened his grip on her. She felt dangerously adrift when he wasn't holding her, and took his hand. His fingers were large, his palm slightly rough. This was a man that worked with his hands; he seemed almost more like a mortal warrior than a godly king.

"Would you like to join me for breakfast, then take a tour of my kingdom?" he asked kindly.

Her stomach growled. She was feeling faint from lack of food, but had tried to ignore it after his warning.

"I thought I couldn't eat food from here," she said slowly, though she would have given anything to spend more time with him.

"I had my servants bring food from above. It is quite safe, I assure you. I never meant to starve you."

"Then yes, I'd love that," she answered. He smiled again, but his expression seemed troubled. She wished she was brave enough to ask what was wrong, but the words stuck in her throat. He led her back into hallway. This time she wasn't as frightened with Lord Hades next to her. She kept hold of his hand, though she longed to slip under his arm like she had last night. She remembered _that_ clearly, the solid warmth of him, the hard strength of his body. At some point she had gone from leaning on him to waking alone in her bed, and she wasn't quite sure how she had gotten there. The thought that he might have carried her to her room made her cheeks flush, and she got a pleased feeling in her chest.

"Lord Hades!" called an unfamiliar male voice.

Fear clenched in her chest. She skipped close to Lord Hades, almost burrowing into his side. He stopped, looking down at her with a frown. The man who'd called out approached and bowed before them.

"Thanatos," Lord Hades greeted him, though he sounded distracted. She glanced up and saw both men were focused on her. Lord Hades she didn't mind, but Lord Thanatos had a suspicious look on his face. She shivered.

"I have a scroll for you to sign concerning the latest shipment to Hephaestus," Lord Thanatos said, his eyes still on Persephone.

"Couldn't it have waited until the usual time?" Lord Hades asked, a hint of displeasure in his voice.

"You know how Hephaestus dislikes it when his materials don't arrive on time. I thought I would try to get things going earlier than usual," Lord Thanatos sounded bland, but Lord Hades gave him a hard look. Persephone suspected something was happening, but she didn't know either of them well enough to understand it. She didn't like the way Lord Thanatos continued to stare at her as Lord Hades read the scroll. Movement caught her attention, and she looked to see Lord Hades' shadow.

It was moving slowly, as if trying not to scare her. It didn't touch her, but it began to coil around her, shifting between herself and Lord Thanatos. She relaxed slightly. She might not know what the shadow was, but she understood that it offered protection. Lord Thanatos too watched the shadow, and gave her a searching look as though wondering what she had done to earn that protection.

Lord Hades signed the scroll and handed it back. There was an awkward pause as Lord Thanatos showed no sign of leaving. Lord Hades cleared his throat.

"Lady Persephone, I do not believe you have met Thanatos yet. He is one of my most trusted advisers," he said.

"And I am Death," Lord Thanatos said boldly.

Persephone was taken aback by his manner, but she took a half step forward. She could afford to be gracious when she knew Lord Hades was at her back and his shadow was between her and any danger. She curtsied, not quite as deep as she had for her host last night, but still deeper than was probably necessary. She didn't want to risk offending anyone.

"Pleased to meet you, Lord Thanatos," she said, her voice only trembling a little. She felt Lord Hades' hand on her shoulder, and leaned into him.

"And I am pleased to have you as a guest in our home," Lord Thanatos replied in a warmer tone than he'd used before. She gave him a startled look. He offered her a cautious smile.

"Would you like join us for breakfast?" Lord Hades offered.

"No thank you, my lord, I will see that this scroll is taken care of," Lord Thanatos backed away quickly, and left.

Lord Hades sighed and shook his head.

"Is there a problem, my lord?" she asked timidly.

"I swear, both my advisors are conspiring against me," he muttered.

Her eyes widened. "You mean… rebellion?" she whispered.

He laughed and squeezed her shoulder. "No, not at all. It is only that I have known them a very long time, and they believe they have a right to meddle in my affairs."

She smiled in relief. He became aware of how close they were standing, and suddenly removed his hand from her shoulder. She missed his touch at once, but his shadow remained in place around her. She gave into the urge she felt the first time she saw it move, and reached out to touch it. To her shock, she could _feel_ it. It was nothing she could define, but there was a definite weight and presence to his shadow. She laughed as she ran her fingers over it.

Behind her, Lord Hades stopped breathing. She hadn't realized how attuned she was to him until he stopped breathing and she noticed at once. She turned to look at him in alarm. He stood stiffly, his fists clenched at his side, a dark flush on his cheeks. His eyes seemed to glow with an inner light. It made him look wild.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Am I not supposed to do that? I was just curious."

"No," he said hoarsely. "That's quite alright, my dear. You just took me by surprise, that's all." His words were civil, but his eyes still burned as he stared at her. She was sure she had done _something_, and she wasn't sure if it was good or bad.

Looking at him, her curiosity overcame her again. She stepped forward into his space. He leaned back from her subtly, but she didn't let it stop her. She reached out and brushed his face with her fingers. She wanted to know if his flush was as warm as it looked. If anything, it was hotter. It darkened when she touched him. She was fascinated by the play of color on his gold skin.

The flesh of his cheek wasn't as soft as hers, and it grew rougher as her fingers encountered faint stubble. Her eyes went to his scar. How would its texture differ from the rest of his skin? Did it still hurt him? Her hand trailed down his face, enjoying the masculine feel of his jaw. Before she could reach his scar, his hand suddenly flashed up and grabbed her wrist. She jumped, but only at his incredible speed. Her heart beat a little faster, though she felt no fear. She couldn't pull back from him, and she didn't try.

"That is not a good idea, Lady Persephone," he said in that same husky tone. Her stomach flipped as he caressed her name.

"I'm sorry?" she guessed, though he didn't seem mad.

"You should be," he confirmed, but his lips curved up. She smiled back, tilting her head to the side. He sighed and stepped back from her once more. Disappointment wilted her. He held her wrist securely, so she couldn't follow him again. Her heart beat a little nervously. Had she done something wrong? She had always been comfortable touching other people, whether it was her mother or her goddess friends, but he was acting differently from them. His thumb stroked over the back of her wrist, providing a little reassurance.

"Let's go to breakfast before I forget all decency," he said, and turned to tug her along. His grip suddenly reminded her of the way the other gods tried to hold her down, and a whimper tore from her throat. She jerked at him. He stopped and allowed her to pull free, but once she was no longer touching him, the fear came back full force. She grabbed his arm with both hands, terrified of being left alone.

"Lady Persephone?" he asked quickly, "Did I hurt you?" He sounded regretful.

"No," she panted, allowing the contact with him to drive away her fear. "I feel better when I'm touching someone."

"Whatever you need," he allowed.

What she _really_ needed was a hug, but after he stopped her from touching his face, she wasn't sure he'd welcome it.

"I'm okay," she insisted, but she kept her death-grip on his arm. He turned his wrist, offering his hand. He put one of hers in it, and they walked hand in hand down the corridor. His shadow followed them, a dark humanoid shape on the wall, even though the light was all wrong for that angle. She felt a light touch on her arm, and looked down to see a filament of shadow. When she didn't object, it curled around her wrist. It was comforting, not confining. She held her head up, realizing she was protected on both sides by Lord Hades and his shadow.

They passed through a parlor into the dining room. The feast hall was light and spacious. It had a table with space for a dozen, though only two places were set. Lord Hades pulled out the chair immediately to the right of the head of the table. No one had even held a chair for her, and her cheeks turned pink as she sat. He took the head seat, and ghosts began bringing out platters of food. She felt somewhat anxious that she had to let go of him to eat. Whenever possible, she rested her fingers on his wrist, but since he needed his hand to eat, she often had no contact with him.

Then she felt his shadow brush over her feet. She gasped at first, but it only settled across her feet like a favored dog. Now that she had that bit of contact, she relaxed again. As they ate, she asked Lord Hades about his kingdom.

"This is my palace, as you can see," he answered. "Around us is a small town that houses the shades that serve us. Beyond that are the fields were our food is grown, and further than that are the various mineral veins where we harvest our materials."

"There are fields here?" she asked in amazement. "How do things grow without the sun?"

He shrugged. "I think it is the substance of the Underworld itself that allows the plants to grow. That is why those who eat the food from her can never leave, for they have partaken of the essence Underworld."

"So… ghosts and such still eat?"

He chuckled. "They do not need to eat, or to rest, but it is a habit they still remember from their lives, and they are more comfortable with it. Most of the shades here are fulfilling one hundred year contracts instead of going to either Tartarus or Asphodel. To them, one hundred years of servitude is better than their fates."

"What happens to them after one hundred years is up?"

"If they have served well, most go to Asphodel, where they drink the waters of the Lethe and have their past lives erased for a chance at another life. If they did not serve well, or commit crimes during their tenure, I send them to Tartarus. I do not give them another chance." His voice turned stern. His authority was absolute, and rightly so.

They finished breakfast, and Lord Hades offered his arm to her. She took it eagerly, still longing for any contact with him. He showed her a few rooms within the palace, including a library and an empty ballroom. Instead of dungeons under the palace, there were caverns of natural water springs that formed a series of waterfalls and pools, ranging from too warm to touch to nearly icy cold. Washing was another of those human rituals that ghosts clung to, and Persephone was glad she would be able to clean herself as well.

"I have instructed Hecate to find a couple of spirits to serve as maids for your duration here. The palace can be confusing at first, but you can ask them to guide you around," he said, when she expressed doubt about being about to find anything on her own.

She smiled at his generosity, and thanked him.

Once their tour of the palace was concluded, they headed out to the town. Their first stop was the stables. She clung tighter to him at the thought of the Nightmares. He grinned, his silver eyes radiating amusement. They entered the stables, and she was shocked at the colorful and well-mannered horses in their stalls. There were more varieties than she ever heard of, and each one was unique. And like the shades of the humans, the horses were all dead.

"They are?" she asked in shock, scratching the muzzle of a white and chestnut mare.

He nodded. "Most animals, when they pass on, go to a section of the Elysian Fields prepared specially for the spirits of creatures, but sometimes the most intelligent ones, generally the ones that work closely with people, are not content with that. So they come and go as they please, serving when they care, and running wild in Elysium when they tire of it."

Stable hands led out the palomino and the bay that were his current favorites.

"These two are the Nightmares you saw before," he explained.

She gave them a puzzled look, absently leaning back against his chest. "I thought there were four?"

"Illusion. Two are easier to handle than four. One of the side effects of their being intelligent enough to want to serve is that they can also be quite… mischievous at times."

The horses seemed to nicker in agreement. They were hitched up to a bright colored chariot. She stared at it in amazement. It was nothing like the dull black chariot she had seen before. Nothing here was what it seemed. Not Lord Hades, not the shades, not his home. Why did he hide so much from the others? Would Artemis and Athena still have told her those terrifying stories if they knew the truth of him?

Lord Hades helped her into the chariot, and they took a tour of the surrounding area. She stood with her arms around his waist, leaning on his shoulder. His shadow took a loose grip around her middle to help steady her. Wherever they went, he was recognized. Shades bowed deeply at his passing and she saw more than one face blanch at his approach. She also gathered some attention herself. Was it so unusual for Lord Hades to be seen with someone else? Or was it that she obviously didn't belong down here?

She would have liked to stop at some of the markets they passed, but Lord Hades maintained a stern, impassive look. Given the reaction he was causing, it was just as well that they didn't stop. Then they left town. The reddish torchlight faded behind them, but there was still enough light to see their way. She looked around for the source of the faint, bluish light, and couldn't find one.

It was as if the _air_ itself was providing light. Lord Hades sighed, and shook out his shoulders as if releasing tension. His shadow billowed behind him almost like wings. She looked at him and did a double take, for he was glowing faintly as well. She glanced down at herself, but she was as dull as ever. That was when she began to feel it. There was a _presence_ here, both familiar and new. It reminded her strongly of Lord Hades, but somehow it was _more_ than him as well.

She realized she was feeling the essence of the Underworld itself. It resonated with its king's power; they sustained each other, the god and the Underworld. His power came from it, and yet it would not have power, _life_, without him. For despite all the stories of the Underworld, there was life here. There were gardens on either side of the path they took, the plants also emitting that soft bioluminescence.

She tugged at his arm. "Please, can we…?"

He fingered the reins, and the horses pulled the chariot to the side of the path and stopped. She got off and walked into the garden. There was no one around but for them, and she felt secure enough to walk away from him. Beansprouts twined around trellises on one side of her, while a strawberry patch grew on the other. She examined the leaves of the beans. They were both alike and unalike the living plants she had known above. The shape was similar, but the color was slightly off. If she looked a certain way at them, she could almost see _through_ them. Ghost plants!

She knelt in the strawberry patches and looked under the leaves for ripe berries. Sure enough she found them, glowing like everything else, looking so full and sweet she just had to taste them. She picked a handful and was about to eat one when Lord Hades caught her wrist.

"Lady Persephone," he said, his voice strained. "You cannot eat those if you wish to return to your mother."

"I'm sorry, I forgot," she looked at regret at the strawberries she'd picked. She hated wasting food, even ghostly food as this. "Can you eat them?"

He spread his arms in answer, doing something to make the Underworld glow brighter in his body. "As you can see, I am already part of the Underworld. It does not harm me to eat the food here."

She smiled in relief, and offered him the strawberries. He considered her a moment, before taking them from her hand. He held her eyes as he slowly put them in his mouth and chewed. There was something sensual about watching him eat, his jaw moving silently, then the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. Her face grew warm, but she couldn't look away. She was enjoying it too much.

When he was done, he held his hand out to her. She took it, and he pulled her up against him. His shadow pressed to her back as his arms held her waist. He stared down at her from inches away, his silver eyes almost too bright to look at. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She tilted her head up, sure that his kisses would be nothing like the ones the other gods had forced on her.

But no, he straightened and stepped away. She was bereft. He took her hand when she tried to follow him, allowing the contact but maintaining their distance. He was breathing faster than usual, and shook his head sharply.

"Lord Hades?" she asked in concern.

He shook his head again. "I'm alright. Shall we continue?"

They got back on the chariot and resumed their ride. They left the gardens and entered seemingly endless fields of grains. Once more they stopped at her request. Mindful that she couldn't eat anything, she simply walked in the field, her hands out to brush the seed heads. She could feel the seeds with her power. She hadn't thought she would, given their deathly origin, but they were filled with the same potential for growth as the seeds above.

She returned to Lord Hades and laid her head on his shoulder when they moved off again. He was not looking at her, but concentrating on the path. She was free to observe him. His face was not classically handsome like the other gods. He was carved from rougher stock, his features not as refined, but somehow more masculine. She felt something stir in her heart, when she looked at him.

She knew she was young and had little experience of love. She knew it was too soon, and that it might just be a reaction from the way he saved her. But she couldn't deny that _stirring_, and wanted to explore it further.

They reached the end of the fields, and though the path continued on, they didn't take it.

"That way lies the mines," he said, pointing down one fork of the path. "Down that way lies Elysium, Asphodel, and Tartarus." He took neither track, choosing instead a third path that led to an overlook. He stopped at the top, and got out with her.

She looked over his kingdom, and her breath caught in her throat. It was beautiful here. The gently shimmering fields stretched below her, dotted here and there with ghostly workers. In the far distance was an orangeish firefly that was the merrily burning town. Not a breath of wind stirred this place. With no other sound around them, the noise of their breathing was precious. She heard her heartbeat in her ears, and fancied if she stood still enough, she might hear the heartbeats of Lord Hades and the horses as well.

She turned to him. His face was serene, his eyes gentle as he watched his kingdom. He loved his kingdom, she realized, and he was a good king over it. The luminescence was brighter on him, but it was not harsh to look at. As she studied him, lit from within, she realized something.

"Your hair," she said in surprise.

He glanced down at her, his expression mild. "What about it?"

She reached up and touched one of his messy curls. The strands were soft and pliable, but sprang back into when she released it. "It's not black at all. It's _blue_."

He smiled faintly. "So it is," he agreed. "I make it appear darker when I travel to the land of the living."

"Why do you do that?" she asked suddenly.

"Do what?"

"Why do you hide so much? All the stories about you are all about death and decay and horror. They say your kingdom is ugly and dark, but it isn't. It's beautiful, and it glows down here. Practically everyone is afraid of you, but you are gentle. You create the illusion of blackness and Nightmares when you travel anywhere else. Why don't you allow anyone to truly see you?"

His warm expression turned distant, and his face closed off. "There are stories about me for a reason," he said warningly. "If you think I am gentle, it is only because my control is hard-won. Do you think my kingdom was always like this? It was a harsh place of monsters and madness when I first gained it, and I had to be more of a monster to subdue it. You should _believe_ the stories they tell of me, for they are true. In the beginning the others saw only what they wished of me, and now they see only what I wish of them."

He turned away from her, stalking back to the chariot with his shadow like a dark cape on his back. Her question upset him, but he was wrong. Whatever he had been to tame his kingdom, he was not like that anymore. Even the gods could change.

"We should head back," he said shortly.

"What about lunch?" she asked.

"Back at the palace."

"What about the basket?"

"What basket?"

She showed him the picnic basket tucked discreetly in a corner of the chariot. He stilled, looking at it. He hadn't known it was there. She got it out and explored the contents as he sighed and shook his head.

"Hecate…" he breathed. He watched her as she laid out a blanket and a collection of foods. Having now seen the Underworld plants, she could easily tell these were from the world above.

"You would still sit here and eat with me, knowing what I am?" he asked incredulously.

She met his eyes without fear. "Yes," she answered simply. She knew who he was. The god of the Underworld was not the beast he believed he was, the monster the other gods created of him. He was a responsible king, a good man, and one she trusted. Still watching her, he sat down on the blanket. She sat down by his side and reclined against him. Her hair brushed against his neck, and she heard him inhale sharply.

His hands shook slightly as he offered her food: bread, cheeses, fruits, and finely sliced venison. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her cheek. She didn't know why touch affected him so, but she felt the same way. Despite that, his motions were controlled as he served her. They both greatly enjoyed the venison.

"We rarely get meat down here," he explained.

"How come?"

"This is the land of the dead. We grow our food here, but from where would we get the meat? There are no animals here save those that serve us, and it would be cruel to cut them for our pleasure. The only meat here is what is brought from the world above, and there is seldom a need for it."

"That makes sense," she agreed. "For us, my mom and I, we only had meat when Artemis would stop by. Mom did not like it so much, but I was fond of it."

She looked up at him. His blue hair lay over his forehead, and she wanted to straighten it. His shadow arched behind him, most definitely in the shape of wings.

"Can you fly?" she asked in amazement.

He glanced at his shadow-wings and blushed slightly. "Yes. It is faster than taking the chariot when I want a quick overview of the land."

"But you could just teleport too, couldn't you?"

"Yes…" he agreed slowly. "That way is fastest of all."

But she would bet flying was the most fun. He hadn't worn shadow-wings before, so she imagined he only did it out here where few would see him. She was honored he was sharing it with her.

"Can you take me flying?"

He jumped, then coughed to hide his surprise. "Maybe some other time," he hedged.

They finished their picnic, and got back on the chariot to ride home. Lord Hades offered her the chance to drive, but she was feeling somewhat tired, and declined. She leaned sleepily on him, until he relented and put his arm around her. Held securely against him, she breathed in his shadow-and-age scent, and was content to doze.

She woke slightly when they reached the palace. She was aware of him picking her up, and carrying her through the hallways. They reached her room, and he placed her on the bed. He tucked her in, but before he left his fingers stroked her cheek softly.

"Sleep well, sweet Persephone," he whispered and was gone. She placed her hand on her cheek, and fell asleep with a smile.


	7. No More Schemes

**A/N: As always I am deeply grateful for your reviews! You guys make my day when I see a new review up. I'm always glad to know what people are thinking while they're reading this. So what do you think Hades thinks of Persephone in his world? Find out today!  
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**Chapter 7: No More Schemes**

Hades was finally free of Persephone, and was relieved. His skin was crawling with her touch, and his blood was heated from within. She was a sweetly affectionate creature, and he didn't know what to do with her. He went down to the bathing springs, and immediately stood under the coldest waterfall he could find. The chilly water soaked his skin, but only partially cooled his desire. She could not have been more frustrating than if she was trying to seduce him.

She was constantly touching him. He understood her need for reassurance and didn't mind it, but it would have been better if he was allowed to put his hands on her as well. So many times he felt her softness brush against him, and he had to refrain from claiming her. He'd been in agony as he fought his attraction to her. Many times he'd almost slipped. When she touched his shadow…

His shadow was another part of him, a part of his power that was visible and semi-tangible. It was like an extra limb, and it was sensitive like the skin on his arm. His subjects were aware of it, and politely avoid his shadow. But when Persephone touched a part of him that was rarely touched, he nearly lost it. And she was so unaware of her actions! He'd vowed to be her protector, but it was all her could do not to seduce her.

Her lack of fear bothered him. Everyone feared him. He learned to control himself so they _weren't_ afraid, but there was still that undercurrent of worry if he ever lost control. But Persephone wasn't afraid, at all. She broke through his defenses and made him relax in a way no one else could have. He was happy she saw his kingdom in the same light he did, but he worried what she would do that knowledge. He was not used to being… _vulnerable_.

His teeth chattered and his body was juddering when he finally removed himself from the waterfall. His bones ached with cold, but his chest ached with something else entirely. And dammit, Hecate and Thanatos were trying to set him up! There was that picnic basket, and then Thanatos with that scroll which was obviously only to get a good look at Persephone.

He knew his servants—more like old friends—were only trying to help him, but they didn't understand how much Persephone and him didn't match. They weren't suited to each other. It couldn't be. She was his ward, not a prospective mate! He found their antics amusing to a point, but he didn't want to do anything to get Persephone hurt. Such as if his control broke and he finally seduced her. He was going to have to talk with his friends.

He transported himself to his rooms and dressed himself, choosing dark colors to match his mood. He wondered briefly if it was even worth it to hide behind his clothes. _She_ saw through his disguise in an instant. In one day she'd realized his hair was blue, not black, when his own siblings didn't even know!

He needed a distraction. He sat in his study and attacked the work Thanatos left for him. It should have felt good to get back into his routine, but it felt hollow. He was only trying to take his mind off the sleeping maiden, and it wasn't working. It was a near thing that kept him from joining her on the bed when he set her down…

He shook his head sharply. He couldn't be allowed to carry her into her room again. It was too dangerous for both of them. Thankfully Hecate had done something so that the ill-fitting dress no longer teased him, or he would not have been responsible for his actions. He'd ordered Hecate to prepare a wardrobe for her. When would it be done?

He bent over his paperwork, sternly telling himself to focus. It worked for a time. Someone cleared their throat sharply, and he looked up to see Thanatos standing at the door. His neck had a crick in it, and his hand was cramping from clenching his quill so hard. His back was stiff, and his eyes burned with fatigue.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked sharply.

"Lady Persephone waits on you for dinner," Thanatos said mildly.

His stomach rumbled, and he realized he was hungry. "Alright, I'll come. You'll be joining us for dinner, and Hecate?"

"Oh no, my lord," Thanatos shook his head, widening his eyes innocently. "Hecate and I are much too busy to take a break now. You should enjoy dinner without us." He disappeared before Hades could protest.

He grumbled to himself for a moment, debating the merits and dangers of dinner alone with Persephone. He was beginning to suspect that he really needed a chaperone there to prevent him from taking advantage of her, but both his trusted advisers were mysteriously busy. He almost didn't go, but his conscience summoned up an image of Persephone forlorn and hungry, waiting to eat until he joined her. He scrubbed his hand over his hair, not that it made a difference, and resigned himself to a meal with her.

His outlook brightened considerably. It wasn't that he didn't like her. It was that he enjoyed her company rather too much, and he'd appreciate her company just as much in bed, or the baths. He reined in his thoughts, sternly telling himself to behave as he walked into the parlor off the dining room. Persephone was there already. She too had changed, into a sapphire dress that for once was made to fit her. It hugged her body, showing off her chest and hips. Though it was more modest than Hecate's dresses, he found that hiding her skin only made him want to bare it more.

"Lord Hades!" she greeted him joyously, walking up to him and kissing his cheek, then taking his hand. He nearly wept with wonder. He hadn't realized how much he missed touch until she came into his life and showered him with it. Her eyes were bright as he stared into them, a green-brown color he'd never seen before. Like her hair, her eyes appeared common and muddied from the distance, but this close to her, the rich brown was like fertile earth, with strands of green sprouts pulsing with life. It was no wonder the other gods had desired her.

"Lady Persephone," he said, and brought her hand to his mouth. A bare taste of her skin whetted his appetite. Her cheek colored prettily, and he wanted to do what she had done to him earlier and sweep his fingers across it. Instead he turned to the table—and stopped in horror.

The large table was gone, replaced by a smaller one that barely fit two place settings across from each other. It was so tiny that his long legs would be on her side of the table. It was inevitable that their legs would touch. There was barely an inch between their plates. It was entirely possible that their hands would brush. They might even reach for the same glass by mistake. He began to feel angry. This had Thanatos and Hecate's hands all over it, and it was too far. He was trying to maintain his distance from Persephone, not destroy it completely!

"Thank you for dinner, I think it looks very pretty," she was saying. He glanced at her. She at least appreciated it without being aware of the connotations. For her sake, he would endure it for tonight, but as soon as possible, he was going to order them to stop this nonsense.

He led Persephone to the table and pulled out a chair for her. When he took his own seat, he purposefully sat away from the table, to reduce the chances of them touching. It worked, though he had to lean over more than usual to reach his food. While they ate, Persephone talked about their day. He didn't have much to contribute, and simply enjoyed her voice.

She really liked his kingdom, he realized. She wasn't simply saying it because she wanted something from him. There had been a nymph or two that attempted to get into his bed for his power, and it was inevitably his riches they praised, not the humble fields and gardens that she preferred. As with every other time they were together, she was not happy unless she was touching him. He hated the look of fear on her face when they had no contact, so he left his hand on the table. It was within her reach because of the smallness of the surface, and her fingers often rested on his.

He extended his shadow carefully to lay across her feet, and she relaxed even more. What an odd creature she was. Most were leery, if not outright terrified of his unnatural shadow, but she accepted it as part of him without reservation. It was very strange that she should be _less_ afraid when he was near, instead of more. She had no idea of what he was capable of. She looked at him like he was a hero, when he knew he was the dreaded god of the Underworld.

After dinner, neither of them were tired. Hades no longer had work to do thanks to his spree while she was sleeping, so he didn't have a convenient excuse to leave. Not that he wanted to leave, but he felt it safer for her if he did. Some protector he was, when he was turning out to be the biggest danger to her.

He took her to the least amorous place he could think of, which was the library. However, he soon found that was his downfall, for while his desire to know her body was quieted, his desire to know her mind was roused instead. She wandered around the shelves while his eyes followed her, keenly interested in her choice.

He couldn't help it. He stepped up behind her. She leaned back, never doubting that he would catch her. After so much time with her, it was natural to press against her as well. He suggested a volume that he thought she might have read. She had, and he engaged her in a debate. That was where she came alive. All day he had worried that she was too passive, too quick to agree with him, but in the library she was not the least bit shy to express her opinion.

He found himself taking outrageously contrary views just to see the way her green-brown eyes flashed when she refuted him. He went to so far as to suggest more reading material, and she was quick to do the same. He called a halt to their discussion so that they might read. In truth, it was more so that he wouldn't pin her to the shelves and kiss her silly. The large library was a rather drafty room, and impossible to heat. Against his better judgement, he brought her to his study again. It was at least warmth, sitting on the couch before the fire.

They sat side by side while they read. There was the entire length of the couch that she could have sat on, but instead she chose his cushion. If he wanted to keep some distance between them, maybe he should have sat in the armchair instead. Then again, she probably would have curled up in his lap. It would have been very pleasant, and very disastrous.

She leaned on him like he was no more than a piece of furniture. She read as if she was oblivious to him, but he heard every breath she took. It was impossible for him to concentrate. He stared at his scroll without moving it. He saw the words, but wasn't reading them. How soon could he plead tiredness and escape to his room? He eyed the connecting door to his bedroom with longing. He wasn't really tired, but he needed to get away from Persephone. His cold wash had not helped at all. He felt woefully inadequate to dealing with her.

His arm began to fall asleep, pins and needles attacking him. He twitched a couple times before she asked, "Are you alright?"

He cleared his throat. "Just need to change position if you don't mind."

"Not at all." She sat up.

He raised his arm and flexed his fingers, blood flow resuming. She went back to leaning on him, this time directly against his side. He froze. He knew he should ask her to move, but she felt so comfortable against him. She was warm and pliant. He hadn't been touched, even in friendship, for so long. He hadn't realized how much he craved any sort of contact until she came.

He was probably going to Tartarus for this, but he said nothing. He lowered his arm, casually resting it on her side. She didn't move. His hand brushed her arm. She didn't protest. His heart beat wildly. He told himself that it was wrong, that he should stop, but he was reveling in her softness. And this was all he was doing; it wasn't like he was seducing her. He was only holding her while she read. It was far more innocent than what the other gods would have done to her.

A thrum of anger ran through him at the thought of the other gods forcing her. How dare they touch what was his! His thoughts faltered. Was Persephone his? Maybe. Not in the way he longed for, but she was his to protect. A fierce satisfaction swept over him. Yes, he was her protector. If that was the only way he could have her, it was better than nothing.

He watched her, fascinated by the play of firelight on her hair and skin. If she looked up now, surely she'd realize how he felt about her. But she didn't look up. Instead her body grew limp, her head heavy. She lowered her cheek to his chest. She didn't notice when he took the scroll from her nerveless fingers. She yawned deeply, and succumbed to sleep.

She trusted him enough to sleep with him. True, it wasn't the kind of intimacy most would expect, but being allowed to hold her as she slept was its own kind of reward. He let her rest until he felt the draw of sleep himself. He picked her up and carried her to her room. She didn't wake, but she snuggled deeper into him as he walked. He was lightheaded with her scent of rain and flowers. He set her down on the bed, hesitated, then pressed a brief kiss to her forehead. Then he left before he violated everything he believed in.

Once free of her calming influence, he turned his attention to his so-called advisers. He summoned them to his study, where he stood behind his bog desk to confront them. They came in at the same time, wearing studiously blank faces.

"This stops now," he said firmly, his temper already on edge. They both adopted a too-innocent expression.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said before they could claim ignorance. "You're trying to foster a romance between myself and Lady Persephone."

Neither of them had the decency to look guilty.

"I am telling you to stop it now!" he snapped, making them jump. He didn't raise his voice, but he didn't have to. They knew he was deadly serious. "Demeter did not send her daughter to me to be seduced. Persephone is my ward, and nothing more. Do I make myself clear?"

They exchanged a look, enraging him further. They believed they knew better than him regarding the young goddess.

Hecate ventured, "My lord, Demeter is well aware of the ways between gods and goddesses. It's entirely possible that she sent Lady Persephone here with the intention that you woo her."

If he was any other god, that might have been true. Instead…

"Not possible," he snorted. "You forget who I am. I am Hades, god of the Underworld. Hades, god of the dead. Hades, the _monster_ they'd rather forget. They fear and revile me! No mother would give their daughter to me, let alone an innocent like Persephone."

Hecate flinched, but kept up a brave face. "And yet she _is_ here, for whatever unknown purpose."

"She is here to be safe, not to be forced into my bed!" he snarled, slamming his fist on the table. He knew he was acting rashly, but couldn't stop himself. The pain in his hand felt good, and assuaged the pain in his heart. It hurt to remember why he would never have the young goddess.

"And in case you forgot," he continued in a soft, deadly tone, "There is Persephone herself to consider. What makes you think she would even have me?" He gestured to himself. He looked the same as ever, but the air of menace that he usually restrained had slipped its bounds. His shadow loomed on the wall behind him, reflecting his true, monstrous nature.

Hecate and Thanatos both looked up, on the verge of speaking. Even after what he told them, they still believed a creature like him would have a chance with a maiden like Persephone! He didn't want to hear their words, to be poisoned with false hope.

"No," he growled, stopping them before they could begin. "I don't want to listen to what you think you know. There is nothing that could persuade her to have me. She is a goddess of spring and sunlight. Sooner or later she will tire of my dark world, and she will leave me."

He glared at them, silently daring them to contradict his words. After a tense moment, it was Thanatos who braved his wrath.

"You are determined to protect Lady Persephone at all costs," he began cautiously, "But consider the other members of your family. You would know better than I how single-minded they are when a female has caught their eye. If, as you say, Lady Persephone does tire of the darkness and wishes to see the light, you will no longer be able to protect her outside of your realm. The other gods are sure to resume their pursuit of her. The only way to see that she is unmolested is to claim her yourself. No one would dare go against you then."

The words of Death were seductive and reasonable, because they were true. When Persephone left the Underworld, he would be powerless to protect her. But if he did claim her, not just as a momentary tryst but as something more, none of the gods would touch her. They still feared his wrath—and rightly so—too much to gainsay him. And if she bore his mark, she would never be able to completely leave him. He would also have full access to everything she was, her body…

The thought sickened him, for he no longer desired her physical self alone. He wanted her to come to him willingly. He wanted her to _stay_ willingly.

"No," he said shortly. "I will not protect her at the cost of her innocence and freedom."

Thanatos looked startled and started to speak. Hades cut him off harshly.

"No!" he shouted, the room quivering around him. They blanched and clung to reach other to withstand his fury. "No more conversation! No more reasons why I should be with Persephone! This is not open to discussion. I am done with this! There will be no more schemes. No more suddenly disappearing and leaving me alone with her. No more picnic baskets I don't know about. No more routine scrolls that have to be signed right away. No more skipping the meals we usually take together. No more finding excuses as to why I have to be the one with her every second.

"Tomorrow, I expect both of you at breakfast, and there better be a bigger table for us to eat on. You _will_ take an interest in Persephone, and not foist me on her for the whole day. I am serious. If I catch one more plot to get us together, I will sentence both of you to mine duty for fifty years. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, my lord," they chorused together, for the first time looking properly abashed.

"Dismissed." He waited for them to leave, but they hesitated. His pulse pounded in his head. _Still_, after all this, they had more to say?

"What?" he demanded.

"You should know," Hecate whispered, not looking at him, "That we only wish for you to find joy." Thanatos nodded in agreement.

Their words pierced his heart. He couldn't be angry at them when they honestly wanted to help.

"I know," he sighed heavily, rubbing at his chest. "But my joy won't be found in Demeter's daughter."

They exchanged a worried look, as if to say if not with Persephone, then who? He had no answer for them.


	8. Demeter's Favorite Brother

**A/N: Good morning everyone! It's a lovely morning, it's raining outside! I live in southern CA in the middle of a drought, so any sort of rain is really exciting for us. Thank you for your reviews this last week, I can't tell you how much they help and inspire me. I'm glad you like it! This chapter is pretty short again, I'm sorry for that. Actually, this chapter was not part of the original story I have planned out. But a review from shigatsu26 wondered what Demeter thought of Hades and Persephone, and I started to think about it. The result is this chapter here. Again, my Demeter has a much different take then the traditional story, and I hope you like it!**

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**Chapter 8: Demeter's Favorite Brother**

Her favorite brother was probably Hades, Demeter realized with a heavy dose of irony. Of course, it wasn't like she had much to choose from. She used to be fond of Zeus until their unfortunate tryst. He had since fallen out of favor. Poseidon was no better. He had always been a blind follower of his younger brother. Everything that Zeus did, Poseidon attempted to copy. Lovers, palaces, even clothing. Poseidon had attempted to woo her several times after he found out that Zeus had been with her. She refused him in no uncertain terms.

She was furious with both Zeus and Poseidon for what they had tried to do to her daughter. Zeus was the one that lusted after her, and if Poseidon had not taken part in the attempted rape, he still stood in complicity.

At least Hades had never propositioned her. And he was currently protecting the most important person in her life. It had not been easy to let her daughter go with Hades. When she found Persephone missing that morning, panic seized her heart. Upon being unable to find her daughter on earth, she attempted to go to Mount Olympus. Her worst fears seemed confirmed when she couldn't get through the wards around the place. Zeus was deliberately keeping her out. There was nothing she could do but pace and worry, trying at the wards again and again. When she finally felt Persephone's presence back on earth, she had raced to meet her.

Someone else got there first. She had to admit she assumed the worst when she saw her daughter crumpled and torn, with Hades standing over her. It was Persephone's voice, pleading for the elder god, which broke through her panic. On closer look, Hades was carefully _not_ touching the maiden. His shadow was draped over her in such a way as to cover her modesty from the torn dress. _She_ was the one clutching him, looking for safety. And most telling of all, her daughter wasn't afraid of the man next to her. _Everyone_ was afraid of Hades. That Persephone wasn't meant she had faced a greater trauma that made the lord of the Underworld seem friendly. Her poor girl…

Demeter was ready to fight for her daughter, but she knew she couldn't be everywhere at once. She wasn't strong enough to take on every god that lusted after Persephone. A single threat to her daughter could bring Demeter to her knees. But Hades was a good deal stronger than her. He had his own realm which none could enter without permission. His power was fully the rival of Zeus and Poseidon. If anyone could protect Persephone, it was him. It was clear he didn't want to do it. In general, he stayed out of the messes that the others gods got into regularly. He refused—until Persephone asked. Not many could refuse her daughter, and Hades was no exception.

That wasn't to say that Demeter didn't still have reservations about sending her virgin daughter with the king of the dead. He was, well, a dead god, with all the inherent creepiness associated with being dead. Still, she was not entirely without reassurance that things would work out. He had helped her before, on the day that Persephone was conceived. He also pulled her daughter from the river. While Persephone sobbed out what had happened to her, his shadow changed into a nameless horror from the titan war. He had been willing to delay the other gods to allow them to escape. And then there was his non-existent history of lovers. He took neither women nor men to his bed. He alone of all the gods did not have a reputation as a philanderer: he had honor.

So Demeter had some hope that things would end well when she sent her daughter with Hades. The best possible outcome would be if they fell wildly in love with each other. They might achieve happiness in each other. Persephone would be a queen, albeit of a very dismal world. Hades was likely to be the jealous type that would allow no other to touch his wife. Demeter hoped he would still allow Persephone to visit her in the world above. If not, she might have to brave that horrid kingdom herself to see her daughter.

She was no fool. Demeter knew what was likely to happen if she allowed her daughter to be taken away by another god. She had the hope that Hades' honor would prevent him from taking advantage of Persephone. If he decided he wanted her, he would court her nobly. But was Hades even capable of love? He was not like the other gods. Was there a heart in his cold, unnatural body?

Furthermore, was Persephone capable of loving such darkness? Her daughter had been raised in sunshine and hope. Was she suffering in the midnight land of the dead? Demeter did not believe Hades would keep Persephone in a dungeon or the far reaches of Tartarus, but the Underworld must seem very cold and foreign to her.

The second best outcome would be for Hades to adopt Persephone as his ward. He would still take responsibility for her. Hades protected what was his, Demeter remembered with a shiver. His single-minded protection of their family during the titan war still gave her nightmares. The other gods would not dare touch a ward of Hades'. His patronage would see Persephone elevated to a rare level within the ranks of the gods. She would probably still have to live in the Underworld, but hopefully she would be free to visit the earth.

If Demeter was thinking of the best possible outcomes, she should be prepared for the worst as well. She could immediately think of two worst fates, and she did not know which she dreaded more. The first would be if Persephone died. Whether by Hades' hand, or an accident in the Underworld, or by the other gods seeking revenge, the thought of seeing her daughter dead brought a sharp stab of pain to her heart. She grew weak at the image of her beautiful girl, pale and still. _Please, not that,_ she pleaded silently.

The second outcome was just as bad as the first. What if Hades fell in lust with Persephone? He had not thus far succumbed to the carnal nature of the other gods, but everyone had their breaking point. He had never had a vulnerable maiden thrust into his arms either. What if it was a temptation too great for him to bear?

He would possess Persephone, ravage her, damage her far worse than the other gods. Demeter had _seen_ Hades' temper when he lost it. He wasn't a man when it happened. Sometimes he wasn't even a god. He could do unspeakable things to her daughter, body and soul. If she lived, she would be broken, a shell of waste forever. Maybe death was a kinder outcome, though even then she could not escape the king of the dead.

Demeter had asked for his promise not to hurt Persephone. He had given it easily, which surprised Demeter. He did not make vows lightly. This one was not sworn on the Styx, but she had never known him to break even a casual agreement. Still, it might be a fragile barrier if the lust took him.

There were so many ways that could make giving her daughter to Hades go wrong. There were too many possibilities to consider everyone. She didn't try; it could only drive her to distraction. The fate of her daughter was out of her hands, and she needed her wits about her. The other gods continued to question her about Persephone's location. She evaded them, or pretended ignorance, but it was hard to keep up the charade. Of course she missed Persephone dearly. She didn't dare contact Hades to ask after her daughter. The best thing she could do for Persephone's safety and well-being was to continue to stall the other gods.

She wanted to give Hades and Persephone as much time as possible to choose the path that would give them the most happiness.


	9. Judging the Dead

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I'm glad to see that my unusual take of Demeter was well received. We'll be seeing her again in later chapters, but at least that gave you a basis for what she thinks of Hades and Persephone. I thought I would get an early start on today's chapter, so here I am! The next couple chapters are from Hades' perspective, and then we switch over to what Persephone thinks of everything. I hope you enjoy it!**

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**Chapter 9: Judging the Dead**

The next morning, Hades woke with a feeling of depression. It took him a moment to remember why. After the dressing down he gave his advisers last night, there would be no more plots to get him with Persephone. While he thoroughly believed they had to be stopped, he also had to admit that he really enjoyed the time he spent with her. He could have never agreed to a picnic with her, or that romantic dinner for two, because it was too much like he was trying to court her. But he had liked the outcomes very much. There would be no more of that today. Hecate or Thanatos would find something her to do, without him. He might not even see her at all today without their interference.

However, while he may have halted the main conspiracy, he had forgotten to consider one of the vital conspirators: Persephone herself.

When he entered the dining room parlor, the first thing he saw was Hecate, studying her nails with an amused expression on her face. Before he had time to ask about it, his attention was caught by the other two inhabitants: Persephone and Thanatos. His blood instantly boiled. Thanatos had cornered her against the wall, talking loudly and making wild gestures with his hands. She cringed away from him, but he was leaning into her space, pinning her in place.

Hades' shadow appeared between them, long, thin, and quicker than thought. Thanatos cut off with a cough as a hand shoved his sternum. He staggered back several steps. Usually Hades' shadow was content to appear as most shadows, existing only as a flat image on the walls and floors. But now it had sprung to full three-dimensional life, and stood between the goddess and Death.

Hades crossed the room in three strides, catching up to his shadow. His shoulders were knotted with tension, and his jaw clenched in anger. He didn't trust himself to deal with Thanatos without ripping him apart, so he kept his back to the lesser god as he surveyed Persephone. Physically Thanatos had not dared to lay a hand on her, but mentally she was frightened beyond reason.

She clutched her elbows tightly, her delicate fingers turning white with force. Her eyes were unseeing and distant. She shook worse than when he pulled her from the river. She looked ready to break. His heart went out to her, wanting to help, but afraid he was too harsh to offer comfort. He reached out and very tenderly touched her cheek. Her eyes snapped to his. She let out a sob and sprang at him.

She hugged him tightly, burying her face against his chest. Her shoulders heaved as she cried into him. He wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her with his strength. He feared he squeezed too hard, but when he eased his hold, she whimpered in protest until he tightened his grip again.

"I have you," he murmured, stroking her hair. In the middle of comforting her, he wondered at the feel of her against him, the softness of her hair, the warmth of her body. She gave these things to him, and he tried clumsily to return the measure of joy she gave him. He breathed in her scent of rain and flowers. His shirt grew moist with her tears, and he considered it a privilege. She mumbled something, too low for anyone else to hear. He caught every word.

"I knew you would come."

He closed his eyes. He was going to kill Thanatos. She rubbed her cheek on his shirt, distracting him. She took a few deep breaths and stopped shaking. He was grateful she didn't try to move away, because he wasn't sure he could have let her. If anything, she leaned heavier on him, as if trying to borrow his strength. He gave it to her freely. As she regained her composure, his rage grew.

"Thanatos," he called without looking. "That the Tartarus were you doing?"

Thanatos answered far too blithely. "She asked what this place was like before you came. I answered her."

A chill went down his spine. That was not a subject he wanted anyone discussing, let alone the maiden now clinging to him. And did Thanatos also talk about what _he_ was like, as raging and monstrous as any of the Titans imprisoned here? He turned around. Persephone stayed behind him, her arms around his waist. He kept one hand on her, but his other was clenched in a fist.

"And what gave you the right to corner her and terrify her out of her mind?" he demanded softly.

Thanatos jumped, showing doubt for the first time. "I didn't—"

Persephone peered out from behind his back, her tearstained face visible. There was a stunned silence.

"You're a fool, Thanatos," Hecate broke it first.

"Oh, Tartarus," Thanatos swore. "Lady Persephone, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it so far. I only wanted to see when you would tell me no."

"You did _what_?" Hades' voice was a whip crack that made both advisors flinch.

"Please," Persephone tugged his arm. "Don't be mad. He didn't hurt me, and I _did_ ask."

He glared down at her. She met his gaze without fear. How could she say she wasn't hurt when she had watered his shirt?

"Bloody Tartarus," Thanatos breathed, scrubbing his hand over his face. "She's not afraid to stand up to you. Only me."

Persephone grew a little bolder, stepping out from behind Hades. He growled at the thought of her leaving his protection. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her back against him. She braced her feet and leaned hard on him, satisfying his need to hold her. His shadow draped over her like a cloak.

Thanatos bowed deeply to her. "My sincerest apologies, my lady. I truly meant you no distress."

"I accept your apology," she said, then looked up at Hades. "That means you can't punish him, since I have forgiven him," she stated calmly.

Hecate and Thanatos started at the way she managed him so neatly. A thread of warmth curled around his heart at her small defiance. He had a hard time keeping his face stern as he looked at her. It was easier when he glanced at Thanatos. Death swallowed anxiously. Hades nodded curtly, his eyes narrowed. He would give her this one.

It helped that once his temper calmed, he believed that Thanatos really hadn't meant ill by his actions. He was testing her for some reason, and failed to realize how fearful she'd become. His remorse was genuine.

However, Hades wouldn't stay his hand a second time if it happened again. Both Thanatos and Persephone were wise enough to realize it.

Persephone turned to Hades, still standing in the circle of his arms. "Thank you," she murmured, acknowledging that it was his choice to let Thanatos go. She reached up and placed her palm on his face. His stern façade melted away. He was no longer the dreaded lord of the Underworld and feared god of the dead. He was simply Hades, the man that Persephone trusted.

He couldn't have said now long they stood there before he remembered their audience. In the moment, he had forgotten that Hecate and Thanatos were still in the room. They knew better than to interrupt, or look gleeful, but there was no doubt they were watching keenly. He raised his head. Persephone's hand slipped from his cheek. He was loathe to lose her touch. He caught her hand and pressed it to his rapidly beating heart. It was the closest he could come to admitting how he felt.

"Shall we go on to breakfast?" he asked the room at large. He escorted Persephone into the dining room, and caught sight of the table. His breath caught in his throat, torn between anger and amusement. With Persephone tucked against his side, amusement won. The table was larger than the one they used last night, but it wasn't the usual one that belonged in the room. Instead of the long rectangular table, this one was oval, with no clear head. Two settings had been placed on either long side. It was a more casual seating than was usual with the regular table, where he sat at the head with his advisors on either side.

Given that the addition of Persephone would have made such placement uneven, he decided to forgive this fresh meddling in his affairs. There was no question of where they would sit. He pulled out a chair for Persephone, then sat next to her. Hecate was seated across from her, with Thanatos as far from her as possible. She might have forgiven him, but she was still uneasy in his presence. Hades was glad to act as her shield.

Her usual need for touch was magnified this morning, no doubt a result of the confrontation. She was more shy than usual, only daring a brush of her fingers on the back of his hand, no matter how he left it within range of her. Even his shadow across her feet did not reassure her. Was it the presence of his advisors that made her hesitant, the incident that morning, or something else? He wished he knew, so that he could comfort her. He knew he had no right to her, but he still longed to give himself to her.

Her hand slipped under the table. A moment later he felt her touch on his thigh. His muscles jumped, and he nearly choked on his food. He fought to keep a blush from rising on his face. Surely she wasn't going to…? His leg tingled where her hand rested. He needed to do something, before he thoroughly embarrassed himself. He put his own hand under the table, striving for casualness. He found her fingers and held them. She squeezed gratefully, and his chest eased. Perhaps it was just shyness in front of company. He was glad to be of service.

Neither Hecate nor Thanatos made any mention of the missing hands. Hades refused to feel ashamed of what he was doing. It wasn't hurting anyone, and he wasn't seducing her. He was simply giving comfort to his guest. Still, holding hands was a new thing for him, and hiding it under the table made it feel greater than it was. His heart was in serious danger every time she touched him. He worried about seducing her, but in truth he was the one thoroughly enchanted by her presence.

The rest of breakfast passed without incidence. Conversation was polite and fleeting. Everyone made an effort to be on their best behavior, and Persephone gradually relaxed in their company. She never released his hand though. After the plates were cleared, Hades rose to perform his duty of judging the dead. He was forced to let Persephone go, little though he wanted to. He glanced at Hecate, raising his eyebrows, and she nodded to him, agreeing to keep the young goddess with her. However, as he began to walk away, Persephone reached out and caught his hand.

"Please, may I go with you?" she asked guilelessly.

His instant reaction was to say yes, but instead he cleared his throat. "I'm going to judge the dead," he explained. "I don't think you want to see that."

"I know, that's why I'd like to come." She realized she had the attention of everyone in the room, and blushed. "Unless it's not allowed?"

There were no laws against it, but judging the dead was one of the most macabre parts of his kingdom. No one, even other gods, had expressed an interest in what he did. As if watching himself from far away, he extended a hand to her. She jumped up and took it eagerly. He stared at her for a moment. _Why?_ he wanted to ask. _Why do you want to see this? Why do you smile when you look at me? Why do you look so beautiful? What can you possible see in me?_

He kept silent, and led her to his throne room. He realized at once there was nowhere else for her to sit. He was uncomfortable with offering her the seat of his power, sensing it was fraught with too much meaning. He ordered another chair to be brought for her, but she declined.

"I'll just sit here, if you don't mind," she said, and took a seat at his feet. She leaned her shoulder on his leg, and he found he was entirely unable to protest. The judging commenced. Ghost entered the room in a long, silent line. One by one they stepped into a circle of paler stone set in the middle of the floor. He could feel them when they stood on the circle, like a faint breath stirring the hairs on the back of his neck.

He breathed in, and he _inhaled_ their essence. Flashes of light and bursts of sound invaded his soul. In an instant, he experienced their entire life, everything that they didn't recall from birth to death. He felt their joys, their sorrows, their innermost thoughts. In the space between a single heartbeat he lived and he died. He breathed out, vital energy leaving him. It only took him an instant to know where the ghost would go. It took several seconds to calm his racing mind enough to speak.

"Asphodel."

The ghost bowed and faded into nothing. The next one took its place. He breathed in. The same thing happened, the rush of emotion and memory. It made him dizzy, euphoric, and sick at the same time. Mortals felt everything so much more keenly than gods. They lived with one thought on their minds: _I am going to die._ They seized life and tore as much substance out of it as they could, greedily consuming everything before they were taken by his servants. Humans did more in one year than gods did in centuries. When you lived forever, what was the point of doing things quickly? Even Hermes would slow down eventually. That was the secret that the other gods feared him for: _even gods will die_. In the end, he would receive everything.

He could feel Persephone's eyes on him as he worked. Each soul left him a little more tired than before. In the beginning he could barely endure one such judgement, but now he saw hundreds, a never ending stream. Hundreds of times he sired children and gave birth to babes. He buried his lovers, his parents, his progeny. He triumphed, he lost, he screamed in ecstasy and agony, often in the same breath. He was a pauper, a king, a murderer, a priest. Each one left their mark on him in beads of perspiration and a faint tremble in his limbs. Each life threatened to pull him with it, gave him a wicked taste of his own power of death.

For hours he did this, until the trickle of shades began to slow. The line would never fully end, but after about four hours, he had caught up with the tide of Thanatos' work. The doors were shut, and the last spirit was judged. He sat there, unable to move. Persephone was still leaning on him. She said nothing, and he feared what she'd seen was too much. He didn't mean to share his experiences with her, but with the way she was touching him, he couldn't contain a small spillover into her.

He felt hollow and used. He, an immortal god, was exhausted. Other gods at this point turned to sleep or sex or devotion, but for him there was only more work. His duties, more than any other, were unending. Concentrating all his efforts, he reached down and rested his hand on Persephone's shoulder. She didn't flinch from his touch, and he remained there for several moments. He could feel her warmth seeping into this emptiness in his bones. He needed it so badly he nearly wept. After a while she looked up at him.

"Lord Hades?"

He looked at her blankly, unable to form words. She rose and leaned over him, taking his face in her hands. His breath escaped him in a groan. Normally it took him a long time to recover, alone and in pain, but she was with him, and she didn't abandon him. She brushed damp hair back from his face and pressed her face to his.

"Persephone," he whispered, forgetting her honorific.

"Yes," she answered, though she couldn't possibly know what he was asking. She crawled into his lap without hesitation, swinging both legs over the arm of his throne. He cradled her to him, and she let him. He needed to feel her against him, to feel life, not death. He needed to remember what it was to be a god, and not one of the mortal lives that had ripped through him. She laid her head on his shoulder, her hand stroking lightly over his face and chest. He felt her tying herself to his heart with tiny, invisible strings. If he lost her, it would kill him.

For a long time he held her, while she soothed the ache in his soul. Judging the dead took something from him. She gave it back. Eventually he raised his head and looked at her. Her eyes watched him with concern. He could lose himself in those eyes, so like the springtime she presided over. Her mouth moved, drawing his attention to it. He could lose himself in those lips as well.

"Is it always so painful?" she asked softly.

He drew in a ragged breath. _Always._ "Sometimes," he lied. His voice was hoarse as if he'd been screaming. He cleared his throat. "It's been a few hours, my lady," he said. "Might I offer you some food?"

She studied his face as if she heard his lie. Slowly she nodded.

"Will Lord Thanatos and Lady Hecate be joining us?"

He didn't know. This morning he would have been irritated if they missed another meal, but after she comforted him so sweetly, he selfishly wanted her to himself a while longer.

He smiled wanly. "I'm not sure." He stood, still holding her. He would have carried her all day to feel her close to him, but she protested. He set her down but pressed a hand to the small of her back, keeping her against him. She didn't protest, looking up at him with those spring colored eyes. Multicolored strands of hair fell across her face, and he smoothed them back. She was soft all over, her skin, her hair, her body against his. They were in their own private space. He cupped her cheek, and her lips parted as her eyes fluttered. He started to lean down to her, then realized what he was doing.

He froze, torn between want and duty. He bit the inside of his cheek hard, the pain reminding him that he couldn't have the sweet goddess pressed to him. He sighed, and loosened his hold on her. She looked up at him in confusion. Her hand reached up for him, but if she touched him he thought he would lose all control, so he caught her hand and held it in his.

"Lunch," he rasped, "This way."

As it turned out, they would not have company for lunch. There were two notes in the dining room parlor when they reached it. Thanatos' stated that his duties in the land above had kept him over. Hecate's detailed a rockworm infestation in the laundry that needed to be quelled with witchcraft before it spread. Hades wasn't sure he believed either note, but at the moment he didn't care.

They ate in silence for the first part of the meal. He berated himself for what he had almost done to Persephone in the throne room. He'd been about to kiss her. There was no question about it. She probably knew it too. What had he been thinking? He was her guardian, not her beau. Just because she helped him through a difficult spot, he lost all reason over her? But it wasn't only the way she comforted him after judgement. It was everything in the last couple days.

No one ever trusted him so completely. She didn't shy from him, nor from his kingdom. She embraced all that he showed her, filled with wonder, not greed. If he thought there was even a chance she might return his regard, he would have stopped at nothing to court her. But even if she had appeared willing when he almost kissed her, he knew better than to mistake infatuation for lasting affection. Right now she was fond of him because he was her hero. He wanted more than that. He wanted forever with her.

The silence began to weigh on him. What was she thinking? Was she disappointed that he hadn't kissed her, or was she grateful for the near miss? Usually after judging the dead he craved stillness, but now he wished she would speak. He doubted himself. Why had he let Persephone watch him judge? He had been aware of the mortal conflict above that would send an abnormally high number of souls to Tartarus.

Spirits that went to Asphodel faded away. Those who went to the Elysian fields were welcomed by a column of bluish-white Underworld light. But the ones sentenced to Tartarus were dragged down by red-black flames, the color of blood. They screamed as they were consumed. He feared it was too much for Persephone. Was she disturbed by it? Disgusted? Frightened? Did she think him a cruel judge? Was she as affected by experiencing the mortal lives as he was?

"Lord Hades?" she broke the silence. "Could I ask some questions about your judgements?"

His stomach clenched. He'd been half-expecting this. It was inevitable that she wouldn't agree with some of his decisions. He nodded and braced himself for her censure. But that wasn't what happened. She brought up certain souls, but not all of them. Most of them were the ones he'd debated over himself. She asked questions about where he sent them, but with curiosity instead of accusation. She never once tried to defend the shades who went to Tartarus.

It wasn't until she brought up a third ghost that he understood what she was doing. She wasn't trying to undermine his choices. She was trying to understand them. He felt his shoulders relax, and he was more forward with his answers. At first he was awkward and halting. There had been no laws when he first came to the Underground. Everyone burned without discrimination. Later, when his rage was spent and the Underworld was full of ashes, the souls stumbled around without guidance. The other gods mostly didn't care what happened to the dead, save for a favored few. It took him centuries to realize that not all lives were worthy to be punished—or rewarded—in the same way.

He began to judge the souls and develop his own codes of morality. It was a long and painful process, and he made mistakes along the way. Thankfully he had the ability to reach into the different realms and retrieve wayward spirits. At first he listened to the testimonies of the dead, but he learned quickly that everyone lied. He eventually learned the process of experiencing their lives. It was the most exhausting way to judge, but it was the most accurate as well.

The discussion with Persephone helped him define his convictions. He had never voiced them out loud before. He worried that he was stumbling over his words and not making sense, but she never scorned him. It became an almost philosophical debate of right and wrong. It strengthened his belief in his decisions, and he began to speak with more confidence. Even when she disagreed with him, they could listen to each other's opinions without become heated. He enjoyed the conversation so much that two hours went by without notice.

He gave a start of surprise when he realized the time. He should have been in his study long ago, completing the paperwork that came with his realm. Why hadn't Thanatos summoned him?

"Is something wrong?" Persephone asked when he stood.

He grimaced. "Duty calls, I'm afraid."

"Can I come with you?"

"I don't think you'd want to. It's just reports I have to read, sign off, and reply to."

"Maybe I could help?"

"Probably not a good idea. Thanatos threatened the last person who messed up his system with dismemberment." He smiled at the memory.

She cocked her head at him. "You?"

He nodded with a chuckle.

"Well, if I can't help, maybe I can read one of the scrolls you suggested? I promise to be quiet."

Her insistence made him wonder why she was so determined to be with him. He frowned thoughtfully.

"Do you feel safe here?" he asked suddenly.

She blinked in surprise. "Of course."

He shook his head. "I mean, if I wasn't with you, would you still feel safe?"

She faltered. "I feel safer when I'm around others," she said quietly.

"So if Hecate or Thanatos were here, you would feel safe with them?"

She hesitated, her shyness returning. "I would like to think so," she said slowly, "But I don't know them."

"You don't know me," he pointed out. Not really. She'd spent less than two full days with him. That was not enough to claim familiarity.

"But I feel like I do know you."

Warmth flooded him. He felt the same, despite what his mind told him. His _heart_ knew her, even after such a short time. There was still a lot left to be discovered between them, and he wanted to spend all eternity exploring it.

"I want you to feel safe here, and not just when I'm around," he said gently.

She blushed. "I understand. Only, everything is very new to me. I never spent much time outside my mother's garden. I hardly know this place, and you're the one that knows it best."

That was true. When she said it like that, it reminded him of how limited her experience really was. Demeter had reasons to keep her daughter sheltered, but in the end it didn't protect her, did it? Perhaps it was not unreasonable that she would chose to spend her time with an old thing like him. He smiled and held out his hand to her. She took it happily. Tomorrow he would insist that she spent time with someone else, most likely Hecate, so that she wouldn't come to depend on him for security. For today though, she was still his.


	10. An Afternoon Off

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I cannot express how much they really mean to me. As a writer, it's the only kind of feedback I get about my story, and to know what you think of it. I want to answer a comment from Frippery, who was asking about Hecate's reaction to Thanatos cornering Persephone. Part of the reason she didn't stop Thanatos or go looking for Hades is because, like Thanatos, she didn't realize how frightened Persephone had become. Another reason is that she knew Thanatos, while he might push at Persephone, would never do anything to deliberately hurt her. Bruises are another matter, as you'll see in later chapters. But the main reason that both Thanatos and Hecate reacted as they did is because they *wanted* to provoke Hades. They knew he was coming in a few minutes. If he walked in and immediately jumped to her rescue, they'd know he cared about her, and he gets to act like a hero. If he ignores it, then she means nothing to him. They haven't given up hope for Hades! As for Thanatos, he wanted to see what it would take to make Persephone to stand up to him. He was testing her dedication to Hades, and also what kind of person she was. They want to make sure Persephone is worthy of Hades, of course!**

**I hope that answers your question! Feel free to ask anything, if I don't answer, it's probably too spoilery or it will be answered in the story within a few chapters. Here's your new chapter today. What do you think Hades would do with Persephone on his day off?**

**Chapter 10: An Afternoon Off**

Together they made their way to the library to fetch a scroll for her to read while he worked. They met Thanatos on the way there. Hades stopped with speak with him.

"Thanatos," he called sternly, "Why didn't you summon me for work?"

"My lord?" Thanatos looked blank.

"Usually by now I'm in my study going over your reports. Why didn't you call me?" He was feeling irritated, suspecting that once again his advisors were trying to arrange his life.

"It's your day off," Thanatos answered calmly.

It was Hades' turn to be surprised. He made a habit of scheduling himself off one afternoon a week. He usually spent it with Cerberus, and took his dog riding. He eyed Thanatos suspiciously, and counted the days since his last afternoon off. The lesser god was right: this was his free day. In the excitement of Persephone's arrival, he had completely forgotten.

"Ah, thank you," he said gruffly, embarrassed at having to be reminded.

Thanatos inclined his head and started to leave. He paused. "I believe I heard Cerberus whining when I passed the kennels earlier," he said in an unsubtle hint.

"That will be all," Hades said in exasperation. Thanatos had the audacity to smirk as he walked away. Hades looked down at Persephone. Her face shown with curiosity and excitement. He was aware of the way their fingers entwined, and he felt the urge to kiss her.

"Would you like to meet Cerberus?" he asked.

She grinned in answer.

Like horses, dogs were some of the creatures that chose to serve after they'd earned their well-deserved rest. It was the most intelligent that preferred the company of shades and gods to the endless Elysian fields, and none were more intelligent than the one with three heads.

Cerberus' fur was white, but it was hard to tell under all the spots. He had spots of every size, shape and color. There were huge ones longer across than Hades' arm, and freckles smaller than the tips of Persephone's fingers. They were grey, black, red, tan, brown, buff, and all shades in between. Over all it could have made for a very ugly dog, but instead Cerberus managed to look like a rather eccentric mutt. His body was about the size of a mountain lion, with broad shoulders to support three necks and heads.

"Cerberus!" Hades greeted his dog. Cerberus let out a chorus of barks, sounding like an entire kennel by himself. His tail wagged hard, and three heads thrust out for petting.

"This is the Lady Persephone," he introduced. "And this is Cerberus. He understands what you say."

"That's amazing," she said, hanging back at first, nervous of the large dog. She cautiously extended a hand to be sniffed, and soon three muzzles were investigating her.

"Hello, Cerberus," she giggled, becoming more comfortable. She began petting all the heads, while Cerberus panted happily. Hades leaned against the wall to watch them. His shadow prowled around the room, taking on a distinctly feline shape. The slinky movement caught the attention of first one set of eyes, and then another. Soon all three were watching his shadow. Without warning, Cerberus pounced on it. The shadow batted at the dog, while the various heads bit down and shook playfully.

"No!" Persephone screamed and threw herself on top of the fray. Hades' heart nearly stopped. She pried at Cerberus' jaws with her delicate fingers. The dog released the shadow and backed away with a whine. Hades strode forward and picked her up.

"Persephone," he exclaimed. It was the second time he used her name informally today. If he wasn't careful it would become a habit. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she gasped, but she was trembling. She ran her hands over his chest and arms, creating a wealth of sensation. "Are you hurt?"

He almost didn't hear her question. He caught her hands and held them in one of his, easing her to her feet.

"I'm not hurt," he said quickly. "What happened?" His breathing was ragged from her administrations. She looked him over carefully.

"Cerberus attacked your shadow. I thought he was hurting you."

Warmth spread through him. She was protecting him. He stared at her in wonder as she blushed and began to fidget.

"I'm sorry, I know it was stupid," she hung her head and started to turn away. He caught her arm to stop her.

"No, it wasn't," he said, his lips pulling upward into a smile. "It was very brave of you." He couldn't stop grinning. Had anyone, especially this slip of a goddess, ever tried to defend him? She threw herself on a three-headed dog for him! He wanted to kiss her. His hand on her arm twitched, aching to pull her closer.

"That's just the way we play," he explained. "He wasn't hurting me."

"Oh," she looked embarrassed. He longed to offer comfort, and ran his hand up and down her arm, unable to resist stroking her.

"You should probably tell Cerberus that you're not mad at him," he said. "He doesn't know what he did wrong."

She looked at the dog. He crouched away from them, all six ears back and his tail low.

"I'm sorry, boy," she said, kneeling to pet his heads. "I didn't know you were playing."

Six ears perked up, and in short order all was forgiven. She scratched under his chins for a few minutes, before she looked up at Hades and asked, "Does he have a nightmare form, like the horses?"

Hades smiled. "Yes, actually. Cerberus loves getting dressed up, and he actually figured out how to dispel the illusion on his own. No other animal can do that."

Cerberus barked and wagged his tail in excitement.

"Can I see it?" she asked the dog directly. He barked again.

Hades took the precaution of standing behind Persephone, and then snapped his fingers. Instantly the spotted form of Cerberus disappeared. In his place was something out of the depths of Tartarus. The Hellhound stood twelve feet tall at the shoulder, and had to crouch because the kennel wasn't that big. Each head was as big as his original body, and his fur was jet black. It was thick and matted. His tail was twice as long, and scaled like a snake. The three heads had eerie blue eyes that glowed. The insides of their mouths were blood red, with fangs longer than Hades' hand. Vivid green drool leaked from their jaws, and where it touched the floor, the stone hissed and dissolved.

Even though she'd known to expect the transformation, Persephone still gave a squeak of fright and pressed back against Hades' legs. Cerberus gave a cavernous growl that shook the room—and suddenly reverted back to his spotted form. He sat down and panted proudly, his tail beating the floor. Persephone let out a laugh.

"Very good!" she praised the dog. "I've never been so terrified in my life!"

Cerberus preened under her hands. He accepted a few more pets, and then trotted over to the door and gave Hades a distinctly reproachful look. Hades chuckled as he helped Persephone rise.

"We usually go riding, and Cerberus misses his exercise," he explained. "Would you like to join us?"

Her eyes lit up, and then her face fell. "I would," she said wistfully, "but I don't know how to ride."

The Fates were smiling on him today. "That's quite alright," he said smoothly. "For today, you can ride with me, as my mare is strong enough to bear us both. Next time, we can see about getting you a horse and riding lessons." He faltered, realizing he had assumed there would be a next time.

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I'd love that."

His heart jolted. Hearing her speak of love was like the ultimate forbidden temptation. What would he have to do to get her to say she loved _him_? They stood there smiling at each other for several minutes, before one of Cerberus' heads barked in impatience. Still holding Persephone's hand, Hades led her to the stables.

The palomino and the bay were the best chariot horses, but for riding he preferred a big chestnut mare. She had been a warhorse, and had the size and muscles to prove it. Her back was only an inch shorter than the top of Hades' shoulders, and was twice as broad as most horses. She had three white stockings and a wide blaze down her face. Long feathers on her lower legs covered hooves the size of dinner plates. Her mane and tail were an orange-ish color compared to the copper-red of her body. Persephone was instantly taken with the mare.

"What's her name?" she asked, stroking the white nose while Hades tacked up the mare.

"Phlegethon," he answered. "She's named after the river of fire."

"I can see why," she nodded, admiring the big horse.

They were ready to ride. He led Phlegethon out of the stables, Persephone walking on his arm. She gave the mare an apprehensive look, clearly wondering how she was supposed to get on something so big. He could have brought them over to the mounting block, or even offered her a leg up. But he was feeling playful, so instead he turned toward the goddess, put his hands around her waist, and lifted her to Phlegethon's back. She had a moment of misgiving as she realized how high off the ground she was. She clutched his wrists, her eyes wide.

"Don't let go!" she pleaded.

"I'm not," he assured her. His thumbs caressed the curve of her ribs. "I'm not letting you go." He realized he was talking about more than simply holding her to the horse. He longed to hold her with all his heart. He wanted to throw off his restraint and fully court her. Damn what Demeter or anyone else would think. They played no part in his happiness; only _her_, Persephone, who had begged him not to let go. But what did he have to offer a young maiden like Persephone? His kingdom was great, but he feared he was very poor as a suitor. She would not want him as a man. She had not shied from him yet, but in his soul he knew it was only a matter of time.

Eventually her death-grip on his wrists eased, and she nodded to him. He didn't remove his hands just yet. He was aware of her warmth under his palms. She was allowing him to touch her like this, and he savored every moment. _I'm not letting you go,_ he repeated silently, even as he forced himself to release her. He still held her in his heart. He didn't have long to miss her touch, for he swung up behind her a moment later.

He put an arm around her middle and pulled her snug against him. She leaned back, tilting her head to smile at him. He smiled back, marveling at how well she fit against him. He hadn't dared to hold her this close before; riding was only an excuse for him to give in to his desire. She was at the perfect height for him to lean down and kiss her. Her smile tempted him to do just that. He caught himself moving forward, and pulled back suddenly. He wasn't here to woo her. The mask over his feelings was dangerously thin, and every second in her presence eroded it further.

He nudged Phlegethon forward with a faint sigh of regret. Persephone gripped his arm hard, thrown off balance by the movement of the big animal beneath them. She made him feel strong by relying on him to steady her. He was proud to have this beautiful woman hanging onto him.

"It's alright, I have you," he said, tightening his hold on her middle. He was holding her closer than strictly necessary, but she didn't complain. He wondered briefly if he was damning himself. What right did he have to force himself on her like this? It would only make it that much harder to give her back to Demeter when the time came. But she wasn't complaining. She didn't seem to mind that his hand spanned her side, or that her back was tucked securely to his chest. If he leaned down a couple inches, he could rest his chin on her shoulder, or whisper lover's words into her ear.

He was finding it hard to care that she wouldn't want him. He'd longed for an excuse to be close to her, and now he had one. Tomorrow he could worry about what was proper. He could be the stern lord of the Underworld then. Today was his day off, and he just wanted to be the man who was in love with the woman in his arms. It was the first time he thought of it in that term, but hadn't he known where he was going from the beginning?

He kept Phlegethon to a walk to give Persephone time to get used to riding. Even so, the mare had a long stride, and they covered a lot of distance. He kept sneaking looks at the maiden. She seemed content to watch the town pass by from within the circle of his arms. If only it could always be like this. If he was anyone but the god of the dead, if they had met in another manner, he might have felt free to court her properly. Instead he was reduced to these stolen moments, unable to express his feelings.

Cerberus trotted patiently at their heels through town, but once they reached the gardens, he began barking in excitement. He ran circles around them, darting in to tease Phlegethon. The mare flattened her ears and snorted, prancing in irritation. Persephone's breath caught in her throat. She clutched his arm tightly, but giggled rather than shrieked. He smiled at the sound of her happiness.

He let a couple inches of rein slip through his fingers, and Phlegethon broke into her big, springy trot. Persephone bounced awkwardly, unable to find her balance to either sit or post the trot. The mare's back hunched in warning. Hades gave her more rein, and she extended into a ground-devouring canter. Persephone flailed helplessly, until he pulled her hard against him. With her body snugged to his, she suddenly caught his rhythm, and she was in balance again. They moved in concert, swaying together with the powerful mare's strides. The feeling of her against him was exquisite. The motion of two bodies driving together brought to mind another _activity_, and his mouth was dry with emotion.

He felt Persephone struggling for breath. He worried he was squeezing her too tight. Then she seemed to catch her breath. She flung back her head and gave a wild peel of laughter. It wrapped around his heart and clenched hard. Phlegethon spooked and bolted for a few strides, until her brought her under control again. Persephone stretched out her arms to either side, reveling in the wind as it tore past them. She trusted him completely to keep her in the saddle.

"It feels like flying!" she shouted giddily. He put his mouth next to her ear so she would hear him over the rush of the wind.

"Not quite, but close," he teased. She shot him a look of wonder over her shoulder, but it was too difficult to carry out a conversation. The wind whipped Phlegethon's orange mane like the flames she was named after. Persephone's hair was blown into his face, strands of yellow-blond, copper-red and gold-brown flashing before his eyes. They caressed and stung his cheek in a burning pleasure-pain. The scent of rain and flowers tantalized him, until he was bathed in it. He was in bliss. Holding her against him, her hair stroking him, her scent assaulting him. He could almost believe he had ridden into the Elysian fields without notice.

Cerberus followed them, sometimes behind, sometimes ahead or to the side. His heads let out a chorus of unearthly bays, sounding like an entire fox hunt by himself. His shadow took on the shape of a dog and ran beside them like another hound. Both horse and dog could run faster, but Hades kept them to an easy canter for Persephone's sake. It still felt very fast to someone not used to it. They blazed past the gardens and the fields. All too soon the fork in the road appeared, and he sat back to slow the mare. She tossed her head in protest, but was too well-behaved to ignore him.

As soon as they slowed enough for speech, Persephone twisted in the saddle and flung her arms around him.

"Thank you," she gasped, "That was absolutely amazing! I've never felt so wonderful… so free in my life!"

He was slightly overwhelmed by her outburst, by the feel of her holding him. He managed a chuckle. "So you liked it then?"

She hugged him tighter. "I loved it! And if that's not like flying, you _have_ to take me flying someday."

A fine shiver ran through him. There were few things he liked better than the true freedom of flying, and he longed to share it with her. But it was a very intimate act, even more than riding. He had to hold her tight against him, and this time it was his own body, not the horse, that would be driving them to locomotion. He wasn't sure he could take her flying and remain sane.

"Hades," she began, and he sucked in a breath at the sound of his name from her lips. The informal address was so much more personal. It fanned the emotions in his chest, until he thought they might burn him. She blushed and corrected herself.

"Lord Hades," she said firmly. He wished he could tell her to forget his title, but if he did, he would lose any ability he still had to hold himself apart from her.

"I want to thank you for all you've done for me," she said shyly. "For sharing your home and your kingdom with me. Even your horse and dog! You didn't have to help me when my mother asked, and you didn't have to be so nice once you brought me here. I'm nobody, just a minor goddess, and you didn't have to bother yourself with me. You've opened your life to me, and I want to tell you how grateful I am to you."

His throat locked tight, and he was unable to respond. He was unsure what to make of her declaration. She thought him generous and kind, but she didn't know the thoughts he had been struggling with since she arrived. She believed him altruistic, when he was anything but! And what did she mean by speaking to him now? Had she noticed his unseemly reaction to her, and decided to put him in his place? Did she try to soften the blow by praising him first? Was this her attempt to let him down softly?

He could easily imagine her adding in a firm tone, "But you must know that I could never feel anything for something like you, so you might as well stop trying." The silent words cut his soul, though she said nothing. Another thought occurred to him, worse than the first: did she think to repay her obligation with her body? No matter how he desired her, he could _never_ take her if she only felt compelled to offer.

He was sick with anticipation, waiting for her next move. She surprised him again. She laid her head gently on his chest, unconsciously seducing. If she had meant to lure him, he could have resisted. But her unintentional gesture undid him. He stifled a groan of longing. He would have done anything she asked of him. She had no idea how she tormented him! Nor could he ever tell her, for fear of her reaction. She would be repulsed by him. At best it would make things strained and awkward between them. At worst she might fear him, and no longer allow him to protect her. She would go back to Demeter, and fall prey to whatever god that wanted her. No, he couldn't bear it.

His hold on her tightened, under the excuse of keeping her steady. His chest hurt, both with repressed emotion and the thought of her coming to harm. He turned Phlegethon toward the path that led to Asphodel. Tartarus was out of the question, and he didn't want to see Elysium right now. After Persephone's declaration, he worried that it would seem like he was trying to impress her. If he really examined himself, he had to admit he was afraid of being disappointed in the Elysian fields. No matter what Elysium showed him, it couldn't match the feeling of holding Persephone in his arms.

So he took her to Asphodel. It was neither happy nor sad, but at least it was peaceful. They rode through fields of asphodel flowers tall enough to tickle Phlegethon's belly. These plants too gave off a faint gleam, though not as pronounced as in the grain fields. Cerberus almost disappeared, save for his heads and arching tail. With his mottled color, he actually blended quite well with the grey flowers. Occasionally they saw the spirits of the dead. Mostly they stood or sat with patient, blank faces. Having drunk from the waters of Lethe and forgotten their past lives, they now waited their chance to be born again.

Hades and Persephone exchanged few words, though they rode for several hours. Time was nearly impossible to tell without the sun, but he could feel it passing away. She asked about the flowers and the realm, and he answered softly. They didn't ride faster than a sedate walk. It seemed both were more content to hold each other than to care about where they were. Touch replaced the words he could not say. Cerberus grew bored with their pace and began ranging ahead, returning every few minutes.

Asphodel was not a happy place for the souls, but Hades felt a steady joy radiating from his chest. In all his long existence, he had never felt this way before. No one sought him for company, or leaned on him as this young goddess did. The feelings in his heart were growing, until it was an exquisite pain to say nothing. He savored the feel of her against him. There was no telling when he might get a chance for this again—if ever. He felt guilty for taking advantage of her youth and trust. She saw him as her protector and host, little knowing that he desired far more from her. Did it matter that he meant her no harm? No, it only made him more deceitful as he tried to think of ways to protect her after she inevitably left.

Eventually, they were both hungry, and it was time to return for dinner. One nice thing about the deep connection he had with the Underworld was that no matter how far they'd been riding, when he wanted to leave, the exit was only a few paces behind him. He turned Phlegethon around and soon they were in the fields again. He urged the mare into a final canter. Persephone was better prepared for it this time. She braced against him, her body moving in sync with his, her head flung back with breathless laughter.

Once back at the town, they saw Cerberus to the kennels, and rode Phlegethon to the stables. Hades dismounted first, anticipating that Persephone would need help. She made a clumsy dismount, but when she touched the ground her legs buckled. He caught her securely.

"It's alright," he assured her, taking advantage of the privacy of Phlegethon's bulk to hold her close again. "It happens when you're not used to riding long times."

"I'll have to get used to it," she said casually.

His heart jumped at the evidence that she wanted to go riding with him again. He kept his arm around her as they walked back to the palace. She no longer needed the support, but she leaned on him just the same. He wished this moment would never end. They parted briefly to change for dinner. He hurried through his dressing, loathe to be parted from his love for long. His heart squeezed tightly every time he thought of her. He could say nothing about it, but he was no longer denying his feelings to himself.

As he entered the parlor off the dining room, he received an unpleasant jolt to see Hecate and Thanatos already in attendance. He'd forgotten he had ordered them to be present at meals. He wasn't if he was disappointed or relieved to see that they had chosen to listen to him. He knew it was dangerous for him to continue to spend so much alone time with Persephone, and yet he always longed for a few minutes more.

Thanatos was standing off to the side, while Persephone and Hecate talked animatedly. Or at least, Persephone was animated, while Hecate listened with glee. From Persephone's gestures, Hades thought she was describing Cerberus' Hellhound form. Her back was to the entrance, and she didn't see him come in. He stood next to Thanatos, watching her for a moment. Thanatos too had his eyes on the young goddess.

"She's less afraid," the lesser god murmured, his voice pitched low to avoid detection. "You're good for her."

Hades had no answer. He thought of her declaration of gratitude, and smiled fondly.

Thanatos glanced at him, and said even quieter, "She's good for you too."

His smile vanished as he rounded on his advisor. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it, now!" he growled. The sharpness of his tone caused the women to take notice of him.

"Lord Hades," Persephone greeted, unaware of the tension he'd caused. She went to him and put her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. It was over too quick for him to either resist or welcome her affection, which was probably for the best. She stood at his side, his arm naturally curved around her shoulders. His shadow circled around her feet. He loved the way she was not afraid of touching him. It was astonishing the way she welcomed any contact from him as well. He was nervous in front of Hecate and Thanatos. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his closeness to Persephone, but he worried he was giving the wrong impression. They looked like a romantic couple, but the truth couldn't be further away. As much as he longed to enter into a relationship with her, he knew it was impossible.

He glanced around the room. Thanatos was deliberately looking away, but Hecate was watching them with a predatory smirk. He narrowed his eyes at her. She met his gaze for a moment, her expression pleading, then looked down. He suppressed a sigh. He knew they desired him to make a pair with Persephone. They had been with him a long time, and this was the first time he showed interest in a woman. They believed if he only had a partner, he'd be happy for once. He couldn't deny that he was happier in the last two days than in his entire existence, but how could he let his joy with Persephone take away her chance at happiness with someone else? How could he possibly make the maiden as happy as she made him? The thought pained him, and he forced it from his mind.

"Shall we eat?" he asked, and led the way to the dining room.

The first part of dinner, Persephone joined in the conversation, but as the evening grew later, the events of the day caught up to her. She began to droop in weariness. When it came time to leave the table, she stumbled. He caught her before she could fall. Instead of straightening, she leaned on him gratefully. His heart pulsed erratically.

"You're tired, you should rest," he murmured, though he was reluctant to give up what was becoming their nightly ritual.

Her eyes widened, and she straightened. "I'm alright," she said forcibly. She was as eager as him to continue their routine. Hecate nudged Thanatos, and they both stood.

"We are off to bed, my lord," they said hastily, and left.

Hade glared lightly after them, but gave up on trying to correct them. At least they were attempting to be discreet. It was the best he could hope for. Persephone began to lean on him again, exhaustion getting the best of her.

"Shall I carry you?" he asked with feigned casualness. His hand slid down her back in a caress he could no longer hold back. She shivered and pressed closer to him, deliberately this time.

"If you wish," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

There were many things that he _wished_, but the real question was if he _dared_. Holding her so close and not having her was Tartarus anyway, so what was a little more? He picked her up, one arm under her knees, the other under her shoulders. She curled into him. Her hands rested on his chest, her cheek against his heart. She giggled tiredly.

"I feel bad for making you carry me," she said.

"Don't," he replied softly. "The privilege is mine." But in his mind, the word he used was _pleasure_.

She nuzzled into him. "I think it's my privilege as well," she said quietly. His chest swelled with emotion. He carried her toward his study, as their reading material from last night was still there. She watched him silently for a time. Her fingers reached up and touched the scar at the corner of his jaw.

—_Screams and the scent of rotted blood_— A thousand memories boiled up, and he shuddered.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, withdrawing her hand. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he lied breathlessly. His scars always ached. Most of the time he could ignore it, but her touch had woken them all. "It's just sensitive," he fibbed. Very sensitive. No one had touched his scars since they were formed; they were more scars on his soul than on his flesh, places where he had been broken and not put together right. Any brush against them caused memories to flood over him, almost overwhelming in intensity. He remembered screams, pain, rage. He remembered being eaten, burning in the stomach acid, remembered fighting back, hopelessly, remembered breaking himself, changing from god to monster, and the killing, the endless cries for mercy as he killed and killed and killed—

He broke free of the memories, trembling. A fine sheen of sweat stood out on his skin. His scars ached deeply, a pain that never fully went away. His shadow shifted restlessly, unable to decide if he was a god or a monster. To his shame, Persephone saw everything. He couldn't meet her eyes. She'd seen his weakness. She rested her fingers on his face, near his scar without touching it. A shiver went down his spine. Distantly he heard screams, smelled the smoke—

"I wish it didn't cause you so much pain," she murmured, and suddenly it didn't. The memories were still there, still as vivid and horrifying as ever, but they no longer threatened to overwhelm him. The ache in his soul that he had carried for so long was eased as well. Not completely, for he had a lot more scars than the one she had seen and pardoned. There were far more under his clothes that she would never see. No one ever wished for his well-being before, or thought to ask. By accepting his past, she healed him.

His shoulders lifted, and his knees strengthened. "I do believe I feel better already," he said, his tone teasing but his intent serious. She brushed her thumb over his scar. There was no pain this time.

"You make me glad," she said softly. He stumbled and almost dropped her. Surely that wasn't what it sounded like? Could it be possible that she returned his feelings? No, it wasn't, he told himself firmly. She likely only meant that she was glad _for_ him, not that he caused her gladness. Anything else was too much to hope for.

He carried her to his study and put her on the couch. By the time he got their scrolls and turned back, she was curled on her side, sleeping. He smiled fondly at her. He stooped to pick her up, intending to take her to her room as usual. Instead, he found himself only shifting her enough to sit under her. She moved into his warmth appreciatively. This was what he really looked forward to every night. He felt a sensation as if he were finally home. He was complete with her touching him, in a way he'd never been before. He watched her sleep, wishing she felt even a quarter as much for him as he did for her.


	11. Morning Chores

**A/N: Many thanks for your reviews! I'm glad you liked the last chapter. This chapter has Persephone's take on everything, and what she decides to do about it. It may not be what you're expecting. There isn't as much fluff in this chapter.**

**As a side note, does anyone know how the change the title of a document in the doc manager on this website? I mislabeled this chapter by accident, and I don't know how to correct it...**

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**Chapter 11: Morning Chores**

Persephone woke in her own bed as usual, even though her last recollection from last night was of Lord Hades holding her. She didn't have an urgent need to get up, so she lingered for a time. She hugged her pillow to her, grinning at the memories of yesterday. There was Cerberus and Phlegethon, Asphodel and the judging of the dead. And most of all, Lord Hades. Her face warmed at the thought of him. Once she began thinking of him, hundreds of images came to mind. Him smiling at her, holding her. The way he called her name twice yesterday, forgetting to be formal. His searing warmth behind her as Phlegethon surged under them. The distant pain in his eyes when she touched his scar. His shadow, never far from her. Her cheeks began to ache with how wide she was smiling.

It didn't take her long to realize she liked him. She might even love him, if she allowed herself to explore her feelings. As far as she'd seen, what wasn't to love about him? He was a powerful yet sensible god. He was the richest, the least understood, and most responsible one as well.

Unlike the other gods, who had gone from empty flattery to force when they tried to take her, Lord Hades had been a perfect gentleman. There were times when she wished he was a little _less_ circumspect. She'd been disgusted by the touch of the other gods, but _his_ touch was both comforting and alluring. He could be stern and implacable, but neither his animals nor his advisors flinched from him. It was obvious he never raised his hand to them.

She knew she was very young, and had limited experience. What did she really know of love? How could she be sure her feelings were genuine, and not a form of hero worship that would fade in time? In the beginning, she'd been in awe of him. As she drew closer to him, she began to see him as a man instead of a distant god. Everything she saw made her admire him more.

His exactness in carrying out his duties. His care for his subjects. His strict code of morality that still allowed for mercy. His clear-spoken intelligence. The way he listened to her opinion, instead of dismissing her. The way he was quick to defend her from the least insecurity. His insistence that she feel safe in his home. The way _he_ made her feel safe. The look on his face when she'd leapt to his shadow's defense.

In her heart, this didn't feel like a passing fancy, like a flower that bloomed in the morning and wilted by the afternoon. This felt like the steady growing of an oak that would span millennia. The more she learned of him, the more she wanted to know. Each new aspect that she discovered of him deepened the roots in her heart, and made her yearn for the light of his approval.

She was afraid to speak up on several accounts. The first was that she didn't know how he would react. She was afraid he would see her as a gangly girl-child when she expressed her feelings, and not take her seriously. How could she prove that her feelings were real and not the fevered imagination of youth?

She also doubted what she had to offer him. He was one of the oldest, most powerful gods. She was a mere goddess of spring, barely more than a nymph. What right did she have to seek his attention? A god of his status could have any lover he chose, so why would he pick someone as insignificant as her?

She hadn't seen other women pursuing Lord Hades, but she was sure there must be some. She imagined them older, stronger, and more beautiful than her. How could she hope to compete with them? What could make her stand out from the other women throwing themselves at him? How did she show that she loved him as a man, and not as a god of power?

He did not take lovers or have trysts by the dozen like the other gods. He was faithful to his future companion even before he chose one. With everything he did to rule his realm, he deserved a partner who would be as honorable to him. She longed to prove herself worthy of his regard, that her fidelity was as great as his. What would possibly set her apart from the other unseen women?

She only had to think of Lord Hades tending his kingdom to know the answer. What better way to show her admiration, and that it was real, than to love was he loved? She hadn't seen other woman in the Underworld, but she wasn't so arrogant as to believe she was the only one he invited here. If _she_ wanted to encourage a man—and she did—she would be with him as often as she could. That no other women ventured to the Underworld told her than none of the others cared about it.

Even on their short acquaintance, she realized that Lord Hades and the Underworld were irreparably bound. The same vitality flowed through both, so that it was impossible to tell if the power came from the god or the realm. As far as she saw it, it was pure conceit to desire one and ignore the other. Nor was Lord Hades the kind of man to forsake duty for pleasure; his joy was derived from caring for those around him. She wanted to give that joy back to him, to help instead of always being dependent on him. She knew she cared for him as a man, but the real test was to see if she cared just as much for his kingdom.

She got out of bed, forming a plan in her mind. As much as she loved spending time with Lord Hades, she needed to learn more about the Underworld itself. Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos seemed like good people to start with. They could teach her about the Underworld, and she would see it from a different perspective. They were important to Lord Hades, somewhere in that vague realm between trusted advisors and friends. Though technically subordinate to the god of the dead, neither one was afraid to speak their minds to him. If she wanted to stay here, she would need to earn their respect as well.

She went down to breakfast, finally starting to learn her way around the palace without a guide. Lord Thanatos was already in the parlor, industriously reading a scroll. He did not look up at her when she came in. She was content to be ignored by him. She was still leery of him, even if Lord Hades trusted him. Eventually she would need to make her peace with the god of death, but she really hoped she could start with Lady Hecate. Thankfully, the goddess of witchcraft came in a few seconds later.

Persephone went to Lady Hecate and curtsied, greeting her by name.

The older goddess looked amused. "Yes?" she asked without offering a curtsy back. Persephone took that to mean Lady Hecate didn't believe she deserved it. It made her more nervous to address the goddess of witchcraft.

"I was wondering if I might have a word have a word with you," she asked anxiously.

"Well? Is something not to your liking?" Lady Hecate asked briskly.

"No, everything has been wonderful," she said quickly. _Especially Lord Hades,_ she thought to herself, and smiled. "I was wondering if I could come with you after breakfast?"

Her question drew more interest than it was worth. Lady Hecate paused, and Lord Thanatos looked at her over the top of his scroll. She bit her lip nervously.

"What, have you tired of our lord so quickly?" Lady Hecate asked sardonically.

"No, not at all!" she exclaimed, "I love being with Lord Hades."

Both of the advisors raised their eyebrows. She flushed, realizing how that sounded.

"I mean, I don't want to monopolize all his time," she corrected herself. "I want to see more of the Underworld, and get to know you as well."

Lady Hecate gave her a thoughtful look, but Lord Thanatos spoke up for the first time.

"Hades may be able to take as much time as he wishes to ferry you around, but Hecate and I have work to do," he said sharply.

She raised her chin, feeling the sting of his words. "I'm not afraid of work," she declared firmly. "I'll do whatever you tell me, and I'll learn quickly." She couldn't ask for a better opportunity. This was her chance to prove she was not some simpering female trying to take advantage of them. If she worked hard, not only would she learn more of the Underworld, but she might earn their respect as well. She kept her eyes on Lady Hecate. If she couldn't convince the gentler goddess first, she'd have no luck with the sterner god. Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos exchanged one of those looks that often frustrated Lord Hades. After a moment, both gave a small nod. Lady Hecate turned back to Persephone, while Lord Thanatos returned to his scroll, a secretive smile on his face.

"Alright," the elder goddess said briskly. "I'll take you on as a trial. You'll come with me after breakfast, and I'll put you through your paces."

Persephone nodded, pleased by the arrangement. Lady Hecate was treating her like a new servant, and that was what she wanted. She didn't want any preferential treatment. She was determined to prove her own merit.

There was no more conversation until Lord Hades arrived. As usual, he was several minutes later than everyone else. Enough time passed that she started to worry for him, but he came at last. Her heart leapt in joy with his presence. His appearance was slightly disheveled; had he not slept well? Her dreams had all been very pleasant memories of the day she'd spent in his arms, but what had plagued him? She wished she could have been there to comfort his nightmares.

She went to him, gave him a hug, and kissed his cheek. It was terribly informal, but she loved the way he always jumped slightly, as if he wasn't used to affection. She inhaled his age and shadow scent, thinking that it reminded her of mystery and excitement.

"Lord Hades," she greeted warmly.

"Lady Persephone," he replied, a little breathless. There was a troubled look in his bright silver eyes. She took his hand, reveling in the feel of his skin. His fingers didn't close around hers. She tilted her head with both curiosity and confusion. If they had been alone, she would have asked him what was wrong, but she felt shy in front of company. She didn't know Lady Hecate or Lord Thanatos well enough to tell if they approved of her pursuit of their king.

Lord Hades studied her face for a long time. His expression was so strange, a mix of sadness and longing. She wanted to lift his sadness and fulfill his longing. If he gave a single encouraging word, she would have put herself in his power completely.

_See me!_ she thought fiercely, boldly meeting his eyes. _See that I care for you. Give me a chance!_

Instead he tightened his lips into a thin line and turned away from her. His hand fell from hers, having never grasped her fingers.

"Shall we break fast?" he asked curtly as he led the way to the dining hall. Always before he had escorted her in, but now he walked alone, leaving her to flounder. She was stunned and hurt. She could feel Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos staring at her, no doubt wondering what she had done to deserve such treatment. So was she.

Persephone couldn't move, could barely breathe. Her eyes burned with tears. There was an agony of pressure in her heart. What had she done wrong? Yesterday was the best day of her life. Everything seemed so hopeful and encouraging. Lord Hades had been sweet and gentle. Every instance he'd touched her flashed through her mind. When he held her after the judging was over, when he picked her up in the kennels, lifted her to Phlegethon's back, pulled her tight against them as they charged through the fields, caught her when she almost fell, carried her to his study… He hadn't turned from her then. What had changed during the night? Did he realize how she felt about him, but felt nothing in return? Was this his response, to cut her out of his life without a word of warning? How could he be so cruel?

Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos seemed to reach a conclusion. The goddess stepped toward Persephone, while the god stalked angrily after Lord Hades. Abruptly, she was furious. She didn't want their pity, or their interference. She wouldn't run away from Lord Hades, or let him run from her. If he didn't want her, then fine! She would not curl up and die just because her heart was crushed. She would show that she was strong without him!

With her head held high she pushed past Lady Hecate and strode into the dining room. She interrupted Lord Thanatos mid-shout, something about, _What the Tartarus do you…_

Lord Hades stood with his arms folded across his chest, deadly anger on his face. He looked at her for one heart-stopping moment. He was devastatingly handsome like this, and her heart swooped. She glared her defiance at him, and moved toward the table. She stood by Lady Hecate's usual chair, as far from him as possible. After a barely discernable pause, Lady Hecate took the seat next to Lord Hades. His shoulders stiffened, and then slumped.

Persephone started to grab her chair, but suddenly Lord Thanatos was there, pulling it out for her. She hid her flinch, forgetting that she would now be sitting next to him. No matter; she wasn't going to be afraid of Lord Hades, and she wouldn't be frightened of Lord Death either. She nodded coolly to him. There was something like amusement in his eyes. She didn't know how to interpret that.

They were seated and breakfast began. Despite her determination to be strong, it was hard not to show the pain clawing at her from inside. Lord Thanatos was unusually solicitous of her. At first she thought he was only being kind, but as the meal drew on, his manner became increasingly flirtatious. She supposed that was fine; if Lord Hades didn't want her, she was free to enjoy the attentions of another male.

Except she wasn't enjoying the attention. If Lord Hades acted like this, she would have loved every second. With Lord Thanatos, the most she could feel was slight pleasure that he was interested in her. She felt nothing for the god himself. She responded politely to him, but couldn't bring herself to encourage him. No matter, he didn't need encouragement. He leaned closer to her, his arm on the back of her chair, his other hand casually brushing against hers on the table.

She placed her hands on her lap. What little appetite she'd had was gone. Lord Thanatos was making her a little nervous. So far he was perfectly friendly, but he was taking over her space. It was perfectly obvious what he was doing. Lady Hecate was looking between them and Lord Hades with a worried expression on her face. As for Lord Hades… he gave no sign that he noticed anything. He ate even less than her. His knuckles on his utensils were white, and he glowered fiercely at his place. He didn't care at all that Lord Thanatos was making a claim on her.

And then Lord Thanatos crossed a line. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. At any other time, she would have been fine with it, and then politely but firmly tell him she was not interested. But with her confusion and hurt over Lord Hades, she was too insecure to defend herself. She had a sudden flash of the other gods when they tried to force her. She recoiled from Lord Thanatos with a squeak of fear. He started to pull back, but not fast enough.

Lord Hades lunged to his feet. The table rattled as if something huge passed under it. Lord Thanatos' chair flew backward and toppled over, taking the god with it. Lord Hades threw his napkin on the table.

"You _will_ come with me," he snarled at his hapless advisor, tangled with his chair on the floor. The power in his voice flooded the room, making it an unbreakable command. He strode forward, grabbed the god of death by the arm, and half-marched, half-dragged him from the room.

Persephone and Lady Hecate let out identical sighs of relief when the door shut softly behind them. Somehow _not_ slamming the door was more frightening. They exchanged looks.

"I suppose breakfast is over," Lady Hecate shrugged.

"Lord Hades won't… _hurt_ him, will he?" she asked worriedly.

Lady Hecate snorted. "No more than he deserves," she said. "Thanatos knew the risk he was taking. Now, if you want to skip this morning, I understand."

Persephone raised her chin in defiance. "No, I said I'd work today, and I mean it."

Lady Hecate grinned. "You've got spunk, I'll give you that. You'll do nicely, I think. I hope you give him Tartarus for this later."

Persephone didn't understand, and said nothing. She rose with Lady Hecate to begin their day. She soon discovered that not only was the goddess of witchcraft the chatelaine of the palace, but the town around it as well. It seemed nothing happened but that Lady Hecate knew it. The older goddess strode rapidly down halls, checking on various parts of the palace to be sure tasks were carried out correctly. Persephone was introduced in a whirlwind fashion to cooks, cleaners, fixers, herbalists, groundskeepers, builders, weavers, maids and manservants, too many to name and remember.

She never realized how _many_ people lived in and around the palace. There were scores upon scores of shades, all hurrying about their duties. With no need to rest or partake of sustenance, they worked for twenty hours a day, and had only one day off a month. Even though it seemed like an excessive demand on the spirits of the dead, Lady Hecate explained that each of them had signed a contract to work for one hundred years instead of going to their fates. Most of them had been bound for Tartarus, but were given the chance to serve instead. Others feared the loss of memory that came from going to Asphodel, and chose to serve to preserve their past lives for a while longer.

Every single ghost had passed through Lord Hades' judgement, and he was the one that chose to allow them to serve or to force them onward to their fates. He was respected but also feared among the shades, for none could forget that he had ultimate say over their future. There were no second chances given. Any infractions or attempts to escape were dealt with harshly and immediately, and Lord Hades was the one to carry out the punishment. Everyone feared the flames of Tartarus that he could call down upon them.

Even though Lord Hades had lost interest in her, she still learned a new side of him. He could be merciful to the souls of the dead, even those bound for Tartarus, but he was also implacable to those who betrayed him. It brought home to her that he was a just and serious king over his realm.

It was difficult to keep up with Lady Hecate as she performed her duties. Where there was a lack, the elder goddess was quick to jump in to help. Persephone didn't wait to be asked, but helped as much as she could. She was clumsy and sometimes more hindrance than help, but no one could fault her determination. If she could not win Lord Hades' regard, she could earn Lady Hecate's respect, and earn her own place in the Underworld. Maybe she could take on a similar contract to serve as the shades did.

Over the course of the morning, Persephone helped beat drapes, prepare food—Underworld fare grown for the workers—scrub the floors, and build a new door for a townhouse. It was tiring, backbreaking work. Her goddess vitality was no match for the unceasing muscles of the shades. She was stronger than the ghosts, but they never fatigued. Despite the hard work, she didn't complain. Not only was she striving to prove herself, but Lady Hecate was beside her in every task. The elder goddess neither faltered nor used her power to make the chores easier on herself. Persephone was determined not to fail at any task given her. Sometimes she suspect Lady Hecate was singling her out for the worst work, but she didn't mind. She would take everything that was given to her, and do the best she could.

After nearly three hours of solid work, her muscles felt like jelly, and she wished she'd eaten more for breakfast. She did not dare ask for a break or for food. The shades didn't need it, and in any case Lady Hecate never faltered either. They descended deep under the palace, to the washing pools. In one corner set apart from the others was a series of pools so hot they couldn't be touched. The steam was thick and made it hard to breathe. She felt as though the air might burn her lungs. This was where the laundry was done. Her nose and eyes burned with the essence of the harsh lye soap that rose from the bubbling pools.

She was set to stirring a vat of bed linens set in the floor while Lady Hecate checked her wards against the rock worms. The heat was starting to get to Persephone. Her head was swimming. Hot water constantly boiled over the lip of the pool, soaking her thin sandals. Her feet were quickly tender between the scalding water and the stinging soap. Her back and shoulders ached as she worked the long, heavy wooden handle around and around in the pool. She stared dully at Lady Hecate, willing for anything to distract her.

The goddess of witchcraft appeared to draw purplish-black power from the air, forming it into arcane runes. She sent them into the walls and floor, repeating it several times. Persephone wondered hazily what she was doing, and how it felt to work that kind of magic. Persephone's power as a goddess was limited to growing things, and it wasn't anything like the witchcraft the other goddess wielded.

"Would you like to learn?" Lady Hecate was suddenly standing in front of her. In her befuddled state, Persephone hadn't notice the other goddess move. Did she want to learn witchcraft? She knew humans sometimes did, but she had never shown a proclivity for magic.

She shook her head slowly. "I don't have magic," she said regretfully. Only once she said no did she realize how much she wanted to learn. It was a burning pressure inside her, urging her to take action.

Lady Hecate waved her hand dismissively. "You're a goddess. That's power enough for you to tap into, if you truly want it. Now answer me honestly: do you want to learn?"

Persephone nodded, then wavered as she lost her balance and almost fell into the pool of laundry. Lady Hecate frowned at her.

"All very well, but come away from there. You look ready to collapse. I don't think he'd forgive me if I got you killed."

"I'm not tired," she lied defiantly, but left the laundry willingly, choking on the lye fumes.

"Perhaps we'll leave the laundry to the non-breathing folks from now on," Lady Hecate cackled.

For the next hour, Persephone was drilled on the basics of witchcraft. She did her best, but admittedly it was difficult to focus and meditate while sifting grains: even while learning magic, her hands were not idle. At the end of the hour, her body was sore from the unaccustomed labor, and her mind ached from trying to reach for her power. She was desperately hungry, and clumsy with fatigue. Lady Hecate finally took pity on her.

"Go deliver this to the kitchen," the elder goddess handed her a basket of washcloths they had been folding, "And get yourself something to eat. Don't bother to come back, you've worked hard today and deserve a rest."

She felt she should make a protest at being ordered to rest; Lady Hecate was not taking a break. But she was so exhausted she could only nod and take the basket.


	12. Lovers Parted and Reunited

**A/N: Good morning! As always, many thanks for your reviews. I realize Hades' actions in the last chapter was pretty upsetting, but he gets punished in this chapter. Guess who is there to pick up the pieces?**

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**Chapter 12: Lovers Parted and Reunited**

The quickest way to the kitchen from where they were was past the throne room. She saw the big sodalite doors and faltered. If Lord Hades kept to the same schedule as yesterday, he would have just finished judging souls.

Given the morning she'd had, and how grimy she felt, she really didn't want to run into him again. It could only renew her heartache, which she had almost managed to forget. At the same time, she doubted she had the strength to go another route. All she wanted was food, rest, and to be held by someone who cared for her. She would have to make do with the first two.

Stealing herself, she put her head down and began to walk past the massive doors. She almost made it away from them when she heard a low, animal sound of pain. She froze. Only now did she remember how he had been after the judging. Was he like that again, alone and suffering? Caution warred with sympathy. If he didn't want her this morning, he wouldn't welcome her intrusion now. But if he was hurt, she couldn't leave. Helplessly she drifted toward the entrance. Just a quick peek, she told herself. If he was fine, she would be on her way without a word. And if he wasn't…

She crept to the door, opening it barely enough to peer in with one eye. The vast room seemed abandoned at first, but she remembered how quickly it emptied out after the judging was done. Lord Hades valued his solitude, and his staff were aware of his preferences. She looked at the far end, where the throne rested on its dais. There was a lifeless figure sprawled across the chair. Her heart stopped.

"Hades?" she whispered in panic. He didn't seem to be breathing. She stood frozen in horror, unable to call for help, unable to get closer to see if he was alive or… He twitched and gave that moan of pain again. She exhaled in a rush, her head spinning with relief. Her heart started beating again, pounding so hard she couldn't hear anything else.

"Lord Hades," she called loudly, only now aware of her previous slip of address. "Do you need help?" She began to walk toward him reluctantly. She felt bad for his pain, but wished anyone were here instead of her. The basket was clutched in front of her for protection. Her knuckles were white on the rim. When Lord Hades raised his head to look at her, she almost turned and fled. If he could raise his head, surely he was fine? And then he tried to move. She never knew if he was trying to stand, or straightening his position in the throne. Either way, he lost his balance and fell forward. He tumbled down the steps of the dais and sprawled unmoving on the floor.

"Hades!" she screamed. She threw the basket aside as she ran for him. He was breathing shallowly, his eyes closed tight. His skin was more sallow than golden. His shadow was frighteningly ordinary, looking just like hers without any animating force behind it.

"Please, Lord Hades, are you alright?" she asked urgently, kneeling by him. She was afraid of touching him in case he was injured. "I'm going to get someone to help." Hopefully Lady Hecate was still in the same place, or she would be reduced to running the halls shouting for help. He moved again, turning his head toward her. His hand grasped the air weakly.

"Please… don't…" he muttered faintly, and took a moment to gather himself. "…Stay…"

She was torn. On one hand she felt he needed real help, more than what she could give him. She should fetch Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos both, if she could. On the other hand, he'd asked her to stay. After breakfast, she thought he wouldn't want anything to do with her again. If there was anything she could do to help, she wanted to be there for him.

"What can I do?" she asked simply. His hand inched toward her. She took it. This time he clenched her fingers hard, and a fine shudder ran through him. He looked as raw as a hide stretched and scraped for tanning.

"I have you," she whispered quietly, because she didn't know what else to do. His curls had fallen over his face, and she brushed them out of the way. He moved into her touch. She laid her hand on his cheek. His eyes drifted shut in bliss. She remembered the way he had been yesterday. Touch seemed to help. She shifted to lay his head on her lap, and ran her hand through his blue curls. She'd been longing to do it for so long, and now he was letting her.

His hair was damp with sweat. She wished she'd thought to bring one of the washcloths with her. The basket was lying on its side in the middle of the throne room, washcloths strewn everywhere. She'd have to refold those later. Hopefully Lady Hecate would forgive her failure to deliver them.

She continued to stroke her fingers through his hair, sometimes laying her hand on his face. Her eyes and fingers traced his handsome features, wishing she knew where she stood with him. With more strength, he brought her hand to his mouth. She couldn't call it a kiss so much as a desperate press of his lips. His shadow began to stir independently, and curled around her. Her heart was heavy with dread and confusion. If this happened yesterday, she would have been overjoyed at this sign of encouragement. But after this morning, she was afraid to feel hope. If he pushed her away again after this, she'd know she never meant anything to him. It would crush her worse than if she'd never had hope at all.

Lord Hades was taking deep, steadying breaths. After a moment he managed to climb to his feet. She let her hands fall away from him uncertainly. It made her feel too vulnerable to be kneeling while he stood over her, so she rose as well. They stared at each other. She saw her own doubt mirrored in his eyes. Part of her wanted to leave like this never happened, but another part wanted to stay with Lord Hades. He needed her; he was looking at her now, instead of pushing her away.

He started to reach for her. She leaned back, not flinching, but not welcoming his touch. His hand dropped to his side.

"What happened?" she asked. Her voice was a whip crack inside room. He clenched his jaw and looked away. Suddenly she was furious. She had been through too much to meekly lay down and give up.

"No," she said sharply. "I _helped_ you. You needed me. The least you can do is tell me what happened."

He drew himself, giving her an imperious look. Too late she remembered that he was Lord Hades, king of the Underworld and god of the dead. He was not to be trifled with in his own kingdom.

"Have lunch with me," he commanded.

She hesitated. Only now did she remember her own exhaustion and hunger. Her knees were shaking, and it felt like she was going to collapse in a few seconds. She gave a curt nod, because she couldn't do anything else. He gestured for her to precede him. She was starting to feel very unwell, and suspected that movement was going to be more than she could manage. Still, he was waiting on her, so she tried to take a step. Her legs gave out. Lord Hades jumped forward and caught her before she could fall.

They both stiffened, aware this was the first time they had been so close since breakfast. For a tense moment neither moved. Then Lord Hades seemed to give in. He folded her against his chest, one arm holding her tight, the other rubbing her back. His head bowed, mouth pressed to her hair as he inhaled deeply. She trembled, less from tiredness and more from painful hope. What was he doing? Did he know how he was playing with her heart? She couldn't guard against him when he acted like this.

Without asking, he picked her up and carried her through the room. She bore it in awkward silence. She loved the feel of his strong arms around her, but part of her felt like she couldn't enjoy it. He paused when he saw the basket with the scattered washcloths.

"What is this?" he asked.

"I was running an errand for Lady Hecate," she said evasively. Her original intent of somehow impressing him by learning about his realm seemed very childish now. At the same time, she didn't want to give it up. The work gave her purpose, and Lady Hecate was also teaching her witchcraft.

"That's what shades are for," he said dismissively. It made her more determined to keep working. It wasn't about impressing him, or earning Lady Hecate's respect. It was proving her ability to herself.

"I like helping Lady Hecate," she said stubbornly. He gave her a surprised look.

"I'm glad you're getting on well with her," he said in a softer tone. When he spoke like that, she could no longer resist. She laid her head on his chest. She was so tired, and he felt safe and warm. Persephone drifted a little, because the next thing she knew they were in the dining room. His shadow pulled out the chair next to his, and he set her down gently, his hand lingering longer than necessary to steady her. He sat next to her, his shadow wrapping around her legs. It could have been like usual, except for the tension in her heart. The food arrived, and for several minutes they were too busy eating to talk. Eventually though, she remembered why she'd agreed to have lunch with Lord Hades.

"What happened?" she asked again. "More souls to Tartarus?"

He shook his head, and paused for a long drink. His expression turned _haunted_. Clearly he was reluctant to speak of it, but she pressed him for an answer.

"There was an old woman," he began slowly. "She was a dryad. Used to be a dryad. One day she met a mortal man, and fell in love with him. She chose to give up her mortal life, to be with him. He was a simple baker, nothing more. They were never rich or famous, but they never went hungry either." His voice had a dreamy quality, his eyes distant. He went on as if he couldn't stop.

"Such a life she lived with her husband. They had many children, buried two, saw others live to wed and bear their own children. She loved her husband and her family fiercely, and she suffered so much for it. As a dryad, she'd been innocent, knowing only the sun and the wind, the rain and the company of her sisters. But with her husband, she lived so much more, in such a short time. She was… happy. And then one day, today, it was all over."

He slumped in his chair as if it was too much effort to hold himself up. He spoke dispassionately, but she remembered watching him judge souls; he'd _lived_ through everything, as strong as though he had been the woman. No wonder he was exhausted. She realized he was done speaking, but still had no idea why it had affected him so much.

"Was she killed?" she hazarded a guess.

He snorted. "Killed? Yes, she was. By time. Old age was her murderer. Two things she would have never known as a dryad. She might have lived for centuries, but she gave it up for a few short decades with her husband." He sounded bitter… but envious as well. Did he resent his long life, and the ease with which mortals died? Did he tire of his life as an immortal god? She felt anxious for him. It was not her place to say that he should look forward to life rather than looking to end his. She'd only just met him, and had anticipated knowing him for centuries to come.

"Where did you send her?" she asked softly, struggling to understand him.

"Asphodel. After all she suffered, I thought the kindest thing was to let her forget it all."

She felt a jolt in her stomach. Had the woman truly suffered so much? She had _lived_, and she had _loved_, and yes that came with a certain amount of pain, but it was worth it in the end. If Persephone had lived and loved so fiercely, she wouldn't want to forget a moment of it. She didn't know how to respond to Lord Hades. This was one thing that they saw very differently. He sighed deeply.

"And then the old man came."

He spoke so quietly she almost didn't hear him.

"I didn't know who he was, at first. I'd tried to forget about the woman, and there were three or four souls between them. But when he came forward, when I tasted his soul, I _remembered_." He fell silent.

"Her husband?" she prompted, when it looked like he wouldn't speak again.

"Gods, yes," he scrubbed his hand over his face. "He didn't kill himself. But when she died, his heart gave out. The grief was too much for him. And he loved her, so much. To him, the only women in the world were his wife and his daughters. The others might as well not exist. I saw their life again, through his eyes. He worked hard to ensure they had enough to eat, but he didn't let his work take him from his family. He was always there for them.

"And they caused him so much _pain_. All their sorrows, their hurts, their joys, he took them all, and he loved every second of it. He wouldn't trade an instance of what they put him through, not for riches, or a longer life. He was as proud of the pain as he was of the love. He lived unapologetically, and died the same way. They weren't alone when they died."

"Because they were together?" she asked when he paused.

"No. Because their family was around them. The woman was not so good with numbers, but the man was better. He knew how many children he'd sired, and his children's children, down to the fifth generation. So many people were there… Over two hundred attended them in the end, scattered over six villages but traveling home one last time to say goodbye." He fell into a stupefied silence.

For the first time, she began to understand his reaction. "Where did you send the husband?" she asked, dreading the answer.

He sighed, sounding exhausted. "…Elysium," he breathed, nearly inaudible.

She jumped in surprise.

He glanced at her, shoulders rounded in guilt. "I found the woman before she could drink from the Lethe… They are together now." He hid his face in his hands. She stared at him, her suspicions confirmed.

As the lord of the Underworld, and a survivor of the Titan War, he was fairly well inured to senseless acts of violence. It did not bother him to send souls to Tartarus, for they deserved it. But had he ever experienced a true act of love? She knew nothing of the love between a man and a woman, but her mother had raised her with pure love. Artemis and Athena had given her sisterly love as well, so she grew up surrounded and comforted by love. But who had been there for Lord Hades?

It was impossible to imagine the stern god as a child, crying out for someone to help him. She knew the bare facts of this life: eaten by his father, vomited out into a vicious war, then sentenced to the Underworld. For the first time she thought about how confusing and lonely it must have been for him. The stories that were told of him were… not kind. While the other gods and goddesses and banded together for love and support, he was always on the outside. Lord Hades could bear pain and torture, but he was defeated by love.

He sat forlorn, wrenched by the mistake he almost made in separating two lovers. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. His muscles tensed as if she struck him. He was a proud warrior, yet needful of reassurance.

"I think you did the right thing," she said firmly. He didn't respond. She rested her head on his shoulder. After a moment his hand covered hers, intertwining their fingers. They stayed like that for a while. She tried to comfort him, and she hoped he drew strength from her. It was strange to think this was one thing she knew better than him. She hoped that he would not live forever without love, even if he didn't find it in her.

"Tell me about the other souls," she ventured a few minutes later, sensing he needed the distraction. He spoke slowly, but she encouraged him until their discussion was similar to yesterday's. They moved from the dining room to the parlor to be more comfortable. She unconsciously drew closer to him, not realizing it until he put his arm around her to make room for her at his side. Her heart stuttered nervously. She was aware of his closeness, and it wasn't something she took for granted after that morning.

Time passed rapidly, until someone cleared their throat at the door. They looked up. Lord Thanatos stood there with a bland look on his face. She was relieved that he appeared the same as this morning, with no evidence of harm.

"You asked me to summon you for afternoon business," Lord Thanatos said. Lord Hades sighed, then took stock of the time.

"It's later than usual," he said in faint reproof.

Lord Death shrugged. "There was nothing pressing that could not wait for you to enjoy lunch," he replied.

"Very well," Lord Hades said, and stood. He gave her a regretful look. She almost asked to go with him, but held her tongue. While he was occupied with the business of the Underworld, she might as well have a talk with the lesser god. She followed the men out of the parlor, where they turned opposite directions.

"Lord Thanatos," she called quickly, "Could I speak with you?"

Both gods halted. Instead of answering her, Lord Thanatos raised his eyebrows at his king. She stiffened, and turned on Lord Hades. He was frowning at her.

"I do not need your permission to speak with somebody," she declared.

"_You_ don't, but I do," Lord Thanatos said mildly from behind her. She faced him again, surprised. He was serious. They hadn't stood on such formality before; was it a product of this morning? Reluctantly she glanced over her shoulder at Lord Hades. He was looking between the two of them, and scowling.

"Fine," he snapped, and spun on his heels to stalk away. His shadow loomed behind him, black and unassailable. His sudden temper hurt. She started after him automatically to make things right, but forced herself to stop.

Lord Thanatos sighed and shook his head. It was awkward to be alone with him, especially after Lord Hades' abrupt departure. Her heart sped nervously. She told herself that Lord Thanatos wouldn't do anything to her, but she was only half-convinced. He'd pushed at her comfort zone too many times before. At least before Lord Hades had been there to rescue her. Now she wasn't sure he cared anymore. She worried she had damaged the fragile peace they found during lunch. Lord Thanatos cleared his throat; she jumped.

"Um," she began squeakily, and coughed into her hand. "I want to apologize for this morning," she said in rush.

"Oh, that," he snorted derisively. "That wasn't your fault. I knew I was baiting a wounded bear."

She winced at the comparison to such a brutal animal. "He didn't hurt you, or anything?"

"I'm fine," he rolled his eyes, neatly avoiding her question. "Was there anything else you needed?"

"Yes, actually," she took a deep breath, telling herself to be brave. "I understand you manage the business affairs of the Underworld?"

Unmistakable pride entered his voice. "I oversee all the land outside the limits of the town, the fields and the mines, and handle the exchange of good between the Underworld and the land above."

Her eyes widened. She had no idea he did so much. "Can you teach me?"

He blinked in surprise. "Teach you what?"

"Everything."

His eyes glinted. "I think we can manage something."


	13. Self-Defense and Stories

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! This chapter is a nice long one again, and you get to meet a new character at this point. I am going to warn you: Thanatos is going to lose some brownie points in this chapter. If you like him, sorry.  
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**Chapter 13: Self-Defense and Stories**

Much like this morning with Lady Hecate, she followed Lord Thanatos on his rounds. The area he oversaw was too large to go on foot.

"Sometimes I ride if I'm not going too far," he said over his shoulder as they strode down the hallways.

"I don't know how to ride," she panted as she tried to keep up with his long strides. She also did not want him to hold her as Lord Hades had done during their ride together.

Lord Thanatos stopped abruptly, facing her. There was a scythe in his hand that hadn't been there before. The handle was of thick, black wood, while the blade was a bright, white metal. It was so sharp it hurt to look at it. Lord Thanatos gave an eerie grin that made her back up a step.

"Well then, I guess we'll have to take the fast way," he said, and swung the scythe at her. She didn't have time to jump back; she closed her eyes and braced for pain, her heart pounding. There was no pain. Lord Thanatos gave a low chuckle, and she cracked open her eyes.

As it turned out, Lord Death had a unique way to travel. The scythe that was a symbol of his office was sharp enough to cut anything—including the fabric of space. He made a slash in the air, and she could see a wholly new place through the gap. Unfortunately, he needed to touch her to bring her through the passageway. Neither of them were comfortable with holding hands, so he offered his arm like a gentleman. She took it, and they stepped through the rent in the air. She looked back to see it closing behind them, with no sign it had ever been there.

They had gone from a corridor in the palace to a half-threshed field in an instant. Laborers paused in their work to tug their forelocks in respect. Not a few of them stared at her in curiosity. Lord Thanatos did not see fit to introduce her, and merely inspected the crops. He spoke out loud for her benefit, explaining the things he was looking for. When he was done there, they went to another field, then an orchard, and then a large vegetable garden.

She began to realize that the Underworld was far larger than she ever imagined. It wasn't only a place for the dead, but an entire self-supported metropolis. She soon learned that Lord Thanatos was a strict overlord. He was treated with a respect that bordered on fear. Anytime he found something questionable, his scythe would appear in his hands. At the sight of it, spirits would pale and stammer. In the land above, the scythe could kill anything. In the land of the dead, it was one of the few things that could harm the ghosts.

Lady Hecate did not hesitate to discipline the maids she found lacking, but Lord Thanatos tolerated fewer mistakes. She gathered that the souls working within the palace had committed lesser infractions during their lives, while those in the fields had more to account for.

Just like with Lady Hecate, she set out to learn about the Underworld, and learned more about Lord Hades. He was _generous_. The spirits needed no food, no rest, no human comforts, yet he provided all of it to him. Nearly all the food in the fields went directly to feeding the spirits who worked in the Underworld. There was no call for the food of the dead in the world above, and the few gods who lived here could have been provided for in a much smaller scale. But the food wasn't only to see to the well-being of the souls.

Nothing in the laws said that Lord Hades had to offer pardons and reprieves to the shades he judged. Their disposition after death was left entirely to him. If he should choose to cast them all into Tartarus, there was none to protest. But instead he judged them fairly, and he did not only look at their actions. A man who killed for gain was not judged the same as the man who killed to defend his family, and he granted a certain amount of leniency to the latter. Instead of being thrown directly into Tartarus where they must suffer grievously for their actions, he offered them the choice of service to lessen their sentence. The service was long, and often onerous and unpleasant, but that too was fair: they were not wholly pardoned from their actions. They must have some punishment for their crimes, and to most hard work was better than burning flames of Tartarus.

By providing food and clothing—there were flax and cotton fields as well—not only was Lord Hades allowing the deceased a measure of humanity, he was also increasing the number of souls he could offer that reprieve. His sense of justice could not excuse a person from their sentence in Tartarus without consequence; therefore he made sure there was work for every hand. One hundred years seemed a long time to a mortal, but to the life of a god and the deceased, it was not much time at all.

Furthermore, there hadn't been growing things when he first came to the Underworld. He had taken what must have been a barren and inhospitable land, and nurtured it into the place of beauty it was now. Death was not an endless torture, or a place where souls ceased to have meaning. They had purpose, whether it was in serving, or in waiting to be reborn in Asphodel, or enjoying a life well-lived in Elysium.

The more Persephone saw of what Lord Hades had done, the more she fell in love with him.

Eventually they left the growing things behind, and came to the mines. Once more, there seemed to be a rougher sort of people here. Lord Thanatos didn't say anything, but she kept closer to him out of caution. The mines were mostly vertical pits navigated by a series of steep ladders and narrow walkways. She was claustrophobic and vertiginous at the same time. Lord Thanatos could use his scythe to bring them to the mine, but to inspect it, they must travel through it on foot. The ghosts might not be harmed if they fell from a great height, but she had no desire to test her own resilience to injury.

It did not help that she kept seeing things out of the corners of her eyes. It was a flicker of movement, always half-glimpsed and never present when she turned her head. Sometimes it seemed to be a faint glow, like with the Underworld plants and Lord Hades. But there was no living thing here. The shades themselves had a tiny bit of that same light, for they too had partaken of the Underworld food. She was never sure if what she saw was only the spirits working, or if the light came from the walls themselves. It was very confusing to her senses. She felt haunted, and it made her jumpy. Finally, she asked Lord Thanatos about it.

"You mean like this?" He blew hard into his cupped hands, and then pressed his palms to the mineshaft wall. Light expanded from his hands, faint and short-lived, illuminating mineral vein and crystal matrixes in the rock wall. She gasped in wonder. It wasn't as strong as what the plants gave off, but she wished she could see more of it. She touched the dark wall blindly, but her fingers did not make the same spark that Lord Thanatos' did.

"You should see when Hades comes here," he said. "The entire place lights up for him."

"It's beautiful," she said wistfully. She wasn't as afraid of the close dark now that she knew what it could look like.

"Do you think do?" There was pride in his voice. "Do you not miss the sun, the fields, the flowers where you grew up? The company of your friends?"

She was taken aback by the intensity of his questions. If it had been Lord Hades asking, she might have answered with the truth: though she thought of her home sometimes, there were inducements to stay. There were fields and flowers plenty here, and instead of the sun, there was the gentle light that could be coaxed out of the realm. As for the company, she missed her mother, but she was hardly going to meet another such as Lord Hades, stern and generous, powerful but gentle, anywhere else.

But Lord Thanatos' reactions were too unpredictable. At times he seemed to be interested in her, and his attentions made her feel awkward. There was only one man that she wanted to notice her.

So she answered casually, "I suppose sometimes, but I appreciate what Lord Hades has done for me."

Lord Thanatos frowned, dissatisfied with her answer. He led the way deeper into the mine to continue the inspection. As before in the fields, he neglected to introduce her to the workers. She had grown used to the stares, and ignored them. In the mines though, there were whispers as well as stares, and one of the miners grew bold. A man stepped between Lord Thanatos and herself, blocking her way.

"Come now, pretty girl," he leered. "Don't be passing by so quickly. We've not had company in so long, surely you wouldn't begrudge us a kiss?"

She backed away from him in alarm, but he grabbed her arm. Instantly she flashed to the other gods. Her heart pounded in panic, and her skin turned clammy. She should have been stronger than the spirit, but fear held her paralyzed. The miner leaned in, making kissing noises, egged on by the others around him.

"I wouldn't," Lord Death said in a cool, bored tone. His scythe was in his hands, and he absently rolled the shaft between his palms. "She belongs to Lord Hades."

The mention of Lord Hades cleared the mineshaft faster than the appearance of the scythe. Persephone stood in the empty tunnel, shocked and trembling. She thought she was getting _over_ this irrational fear of males, but all it took was one suggestive comment from a stranger, and she was reduced to terror.

Lord Thanatos sighed, cut the air, then grabbed her arm and pulled her through. She stumbled into an already harvested field. He released her arm as soon as she was steady enough not to fall. She was pathetically grateful, because she'd been about to cry from the contact.

"In the future," he informed her curtly, "When a stranger grabs you, I expect you to pull free."

She hung her head in shame. Had it looked like she'd enjoyed the attention? Did he think she was flirting with the other man on purpose? If she could have pulled away, she would have! Lord Thanatos thrust his arm at her. She flinched back.

"Grab my arm," he said sternly. She shook her head, backing away from him. He stalked after her.

"For your safety and well-being, you _will_ grab my arm," he warned. Still she trembled and refused. He stopped chasing her.

"If you do not grab my arm, I will return you to the world above, and inform Hades that you have grown tired of his presence," he hissed.

Tears sprang to her eyes. How could he be so cruel? That was the last thing she wanted Lord Hades to think of her. If he felt even the smallest inclination toward her, that statement would surely kill it. She cried silently as she stepped forward and placed her hand on his arm.

"Both hands," Lord Thanatos instructed relentlessly. "Actually hold onto me, like you want to hurt me."

She was not usually a violent person, but he had threatened to leave her defenseless and lie to Lord Hades about her. She dug her fingers in, not as hard as she could have, but harder than necessary. He made a quick, vicious move that left her hands empty and fingers stinging.

"That is what I want you to do next time someone grabs you," he said.

She gaped at him.

He sighed, and showed her again, moving slightly slower. It took her twice more to get the basic concept, and then he had her practice by trying to escape him. He didn't make it easy for her, gripping her arm hard enough to leave bruises. He worked her mercilessly. After she could get away from both one-handed and two-handed grabs, he began to show her a few other moves to protect herself. Gradually it evolved into a full self-defense course. He assaulted her again and again. Each time he got past her defenses, he threw her to the ground, knocking the air from her lungs.

At first she vented her frustration at him, not worried about holding back. He certainly wasn't going easy for _her_ sake. She was bruised all over and huffing for breath, her clothes dirty and torn. Red marks littered her skin; by evening, they would all darken to bruises. Her anger at this unfair treatment kept her going for a while, but it could only sustain her for so long.

There came a time when she couldn't take it any longer. She landed on her back for the last time. She tried to get up, but her body refused. Waves of pain washed over her. Her skin was clammy with sweat. She was shaking, not just from exhaustion, but fear. Fear of being hurt again, fear of being under this man's power, fear of being helpless and unable to change it. Lord Death stood above her, as fresh as he had been this morning, his expression taunting. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"Get up," he said remorselessly. She really did try, but her limbs weren't listening. Her head fell back as she gave up. He could do whatever he wanted to her. She was defeated.

"Is this how you plan to stand by Hades?" he sneered. "Do you think he will respect you because you are weak? What if someone goes through you to hurt him, because you can't even defend yourself?" He spat on the ground in disgust and walked away.

His words struck her worse than a physical blow. Lord Hades had always been quick to defend her. He was stronger and faster than her. She had enjoyed his protection. But if they were attacked, maybe by one of the gods that tried to rape her, she was a weakness. He would be too busy trying to defend her to protect himself. From somewhere, she found a little strength to drag herself upright. She stood, swaying but determined.

"No," she whispered through parched lips. Lord Thanatos turned to face her.

"I won't let him be hurt because of me," she swore. He gave a fierce grin. It didn't stop him from knocking her into dust though. She pushed herself hard during the lesson, trying to learn instead of merely enduring the punishment. He did not go easier on her, but he no longer mocked her. He gave her more time to recover when she ended up on the ground; at some point, she'd earned his respect.

Despite her resolve, there once more came a time when she couldn't rise again. This time is had less to do with her willpower, and more with the utter failure of her body. She fought bitterly to stand, tears springing to her eyes. She was spent, in pain, and all she would think about was how she was failing Lord Hades by not getting up. Lord Thanatos sat on the ground beside her. At least he was showing a little more fatigue than before, though not nearly as much as her.

"Rest, Lady Persephone," he said gently. "I pushed you hard, and you did well. Better than I expected from one who has been so sheltered. I cannot fault your spirit."

She still felt like a failure, and said so.

"You're not a failure unless you give up," he said. "You never gave up."

She took a few more minutes to catch her breath. It was hard not to give way to hopeless tears. Eventually enough feeling returned to her limbs that she could sit up.

"Shall I take you back to the palace?" he offered.

A bath and a change of clothes sounded great, but…

"If I wanted to learn more about the Underworld, from more than just you, Lady Hecate and Lord Hades, is there anyone else I should talk to?"

His eyes glinted with pride in her. "You should talk to Charon. I'll take you there."

They did stop by the palace briefly, so she could change her ripped dress for one that was more appropriate. She splashed a little water on her face, but did not want to keep Lord Thanatos waiting for too long.

He brought her to the foggy bank of a wide river. Behind them was the hazy orange torchlight of the town. In front of them, the black waters of the river rippled faintly with the current, deceptively lazy. It made a soothing rushing sound, faint but steady. The far bank was invisible in the mist, giving the impression that it went on forever. A shadow moved in the mist, and resolved into a high prowed, flat bottomed boat. It was loaded with fresh souls, still shocked to find themselves dead. A man's voice spoke, deep and calm, the words indistinguishable. It was the ferryman, cloaked in grey, poling his barge across the river.

He pushed the nose of his boat into the sand of the bank, and then turned the boat sidelong to it, allowing the spirits to disembark. Once they stood on the shore, Furies came forward to take charge of the deceased. The ghosts were herded along to where they would be held until their judging. Then it was only Persephone, Lord Thanatos, and the grey-cloaked boatman.

"Hello, Charon," Lord Thanatos called cheerfully.

The ferryman, in the act of freeing his boat from the bank, paused and grinned at them. "Hello, Thanatos! And who is this?" He looked at Persephone curiously.

"This is Persephone, Demeter's daughter, and Hades' guest for a time," Lord Thanatos introduced her. Lord Charon studied her with interest.

"I've not heard of Hades having a guest before," he mused, and exchanged a look with Lord Thanatos that was very similar to the ones between that same lord and the goddess of witchcraft.

"Just so," Lord Thanatos agreed with a touch of smugness.

"Then I welcome you, little goddess," Lord Charon said, his tone friendly.

"Lord Charon," she curtsied.

The boatman's eyebrows rose. "I say, did I get lorded when I wasn't looking?"

She blushed, but his voice was teasing instead of sarcastic.

"She is interested in your stories," Lord Thanatos explained.

"Well then, come aboard, young Persephone, and I will tell them to you."

She hesitated. Even as sheltered as she was, she knew of Lord Charon and his fee for a boat ride. "I don't have a coin," she said apologetically.

"Then work for me, and I will pay your passage," he responded.

How long would it take to pay off a trip in the boat? She looked to Lord Thanatos for reassurance. He nodded to her.

"I'll have you home in time for dinner," Lord Charon promised, and she got on the boat.

He stood at the stern of the vessel and used a long wooden pole to guide the craft through the water. She looked for another pole to help, but he shook his head at her. He directed her to take a seat.

"You'll be watching me first," he explained, so she settled near him in the stern to watch. He handled the bargepole as if it weighed nothing, planting it on the bank and pushing hard against it to send them out into the river. The boat rocked gently, but the motion was rather soothing. The fog quickly swallowed up the bank of the river, and soon they were alone on the water. Her breathing sounded loud to her ears. Lord Charon kept lifting the pole and setting it down again as he directed them across the river, but they might as well have been not moving for how it looked. There was no direction here, no markers, nothing to show a change in position at all. She didn't want to be nervous, but she was. They could be lost, and she wouldn't know it until they never made landfall.

She watched Lord Charon, because at least he moved, constantly punting them across the water to some destination only he knew. He didn't speak, but the silence was companionable. She grew used to the soft sound of the river on the hull of the boat, the tiny, almost-musical splashes of water from the pole. When the sound changed, she heard it. The boat jostled a little more as the current changed.

She peered blindly through the fog at the prow of the boat, and began to make out a faint, spectral glow ahead of them. It reminded her of Lord Hades in the fields, only not so bright. She was not surprised when the glow became a crowd of ghosts, and the boat bumped into the sandy bank. As Lord Charon turned the boat broadside to the shore, she could hear the spirits protesting.

"You don't understand, I'm not dead!"

"I can't be dead, it was only a little sickness!"

"Cyprienne! Where are you? Don't leave me, Cyprienne!"

"I'm alive, you can't bury me!"

She shivered at their words, but Lord Charon was unaffected. He'd probably heard it all before. The ghost grew quiet as he moved to the side of his boat. They gathered close as if irresistibly drawn to him. He held out a hand.

"One coin," he said simply.

"This is a mistake…" one of the spirits muttered half-heartedly, but others were already stepping forward. One by one they dropped a coin into Lord Charon's palm, and took their place on the boat. He gently helped them on board, placing the coins into a small pouch on his belt. He treated them the same whether they gave him the least copper jot or a heavy gold coin. Some rather shyly offered things that were not coins, but beads of wood, glass, or shell. He accepted these as well. She supposed that as long as it was used as a currency somewhere, it was still an appropriate offering. What did he do with so much money?

Once the spirits paid their fee and were on the boat, they no longer protested. It was hard to argue against death once the ferryman was paid. They sat on benches with a kind of numbed horror, realizing that they had indeed reached the end of their lives. A few souls lingered on the shores, either refusing to believe or without coin of their own. Lord Charon cast his eye over them one last time, then climbed into the boat and shoved off with his pole.

The craft was crowded but not full. Nor did the boat sit lower in the water than before. They could have easily taken a couple dozen more ghosts. Perhaps the spirits did not have weight as they did in life. There was restless shuffling among the passengers as they fidgeted nervously. One or two wept softly. She longed to comfort them, but didn't know if it was allowed. What could she say to sooth the newly dead?

_Do not fear, the Underworld is a beautiful place. It's like nothing you've been told about it. There are still fields and trees here, and a thriving town, and a palace of riches like you've never seen. The people who live here are kind and generous. Lord Hades is a just man, and he will see you placed where you belong…_

She glanced at Lord Charon. He winked and gestured for her to wait. The shore faded from view, and they were once more alone on the water. After they had been underway for a few minutes, Lord Charon began to speak. He had a deep, calm voice; not loud, but pitched to carry. It was one of those steady, reassuring voices that people would turn to in a crisis. The shades stilled as they listened, grateful to have something else to focus on.

He spoke of the history of the gods, from the beginning with Uranus and Gaia. She knew of it in vague terms. Persephone had been an indifferent student when it came to history, and Demeter an indifferent teacher. However Lord Charon's story was rich and detailed. He was not merely reciting names in a list, but describing them. He had stories she had never heard before. She didn't know if he had made them up, or spoke from an older history that had not survived the titan war. History would never be her favorite subject, but she couldn't complain of boredom when Lord Charon spoke about it.

The souls were much calmer as they listened to him. His timing was excellent, and as his story drew to an end, the first bank came into view again. He landed his boat on the shore, and the ghosts disembarked. They seemed more resigned to their fates. No more complaints were heard. Lord Charon pushed his boat into the current again. She stood cautiously and offered to help. He shook his head.

"So impatient," he teased. "Sit down. I will tell you when I expect you to help."

She retreated once more. He didn't speak as they crossed the river again. It was still unnerving to be surrounded so completely by the fog. She looked around for any landmarks that Lord Charon might be using to navigate. If they existed, she couldn't find them. She wasn't comfortable enough to ask how he knew where to go. Her attention was divided between trying to guess their direction and the story he had told. Did he say the same thing to every group that passed over? She could only imagine how tedious that would be. And why would he care to tell such things to the spirits? Was it only a distraction to keep them quiet, or did he have another purpose? Or was he only speaking for her benefit?

They reached the far bank. There was another group of spirits waiting for him. She couldn't tell if this was the same landing they used before, or a completely new place. There were no marks in the sand from the boat, but she supposed the current might have erased them. Lord Charon took the coins as before, loading his vessel until no more came forward. She watched him expectantly as he pushed out into the fog once more. He smiled at her, and began to speak.

It was both a new story, and a continuation of the one he'd told before. To the spirits it sounded like a complete tale of its own, but she recognized it as a new chapter in the history he'd already begun. Even though this story was as interesting as the last, she was a bit restless. Technically the gods and titans he talked about were her own ancestors, but it had happened so long ago she didn't feel connected to them. It wasn't relevant to her. After such a busy day with both Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos, it felt odd to sit and not be doing anything. Lord Charon had told her to watch, but how long was she expected to watch him do the same thing over and over again? She was conscious that she stilled owed him a debt to pay off her passage. She was anxious to have it done so it would no longer be hanging over her head.

And then, as they neared the end of their second delivery, Lord Charon spoke a name that caught her attention: Kronos. Her own grandfather. The father of Lord Hades. She was far more interested in any mention of Lord Hades than for Kronos' connection to her. It seemed Lord Charon was teasing her, for he only mentioned the birth of Kronos before his story came to an end. She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking for more. For the first time she realized the great advantage here. She could learn about Lord Hades from one who was _not_ afraid of him. The stories Artemis and Athena used to tell her were more in line of bogeyman tales than actual history. Whether or not they were true or only contained a kernel of truth, those stories served only to increase the fear surrounding Lord Hades. Lord Charon, she was sure, had a completely different version of history that was not focused on how terrifying the lord of the Underworld was.

She listened eagerly during their third crossing with souls, but there was no mention of Lord Hades. The ferryman spoke of the exploits of the titans before the gods were born. She thought he was drawing out the story on purpose, though there was never any awkwardness or repetition in his words. His eyes glittered with amusement as he watched her. She blushed that her interest was so obvious. But then, why shouldn't a guest take an interest in her host? So long as he didn't suspect it was a romantic interest, she was safe.

As they started across the river again, Lord Charon asked, "Do you have any questions about what to do? You'll be helping me pole across this time around."

A thousand questions crowded into her mind, but very few of them were pushing the boat. She forced the irrelevant ones from her mind, and asked, "How do you know where to go? I haven't seen any markers to guide you."

"Trust in the river," he replied. "The Styx will guide you."

She asked a couple more things about maneuvering the boat, until she was satisfied she could do it. She was excited but nervous to begin. The only thing she worried about was having the strength to push the boat along. Lord Charon made it look easy, but she was sure appearances were deceiving. Despite the rest she'd taken, her arms were still sore from both Lord Thanatos and Lady Hecate. They arrived at another crowd of specters. She stood with her hands on the pole while Lord Charon collected coins and loaded the boat.

He came back to her, and put his hands on the ole as well, on the outside of her. She wondered if he'd changed his mind about allowing her to guide the boat, but he nodded reassuringly. She took a deep breath and pushed hard against the pole. The boat didn't move. It didn't even rock a little. Was she really that weak? She strained hard, holding her breath. It wasn't until Lord Charon lent his strength that they stirred from the bank. She was mortified, but he smiled at her. He kept his hands on the pole as they got underway, and she found she needed his help for that as well.

The wood of the pole was thick and solid, too wide to get her hands fully around it. It was sodden from the waters of the Styx. She wasn't prepared for how heavy it was. She couldn't lift it without assistant, and needed Lord Charon to help her place it down again. In truth, he was doing most of the work. She was merely there with her hands on the wood, not contributing much if at all. Lord Charon didn't mind. He didn't mock her weakness as Lord Thanatos did, nor did he give sharp-voiced corrections as Lady Hecate had. She stood within arm's reach of him as she faced him across the bargepole. He was the first male besides Lord Hades that didn't make her anxious by his proximity.

Lord Charon was powerful. He commanded the spirits by the sound of his voice. He could be frightening if he chose to. But mostly, he seemed friendly and curious. He respected her, and was willing to give her a fair chance. She instinctively trusted him, much like Lord Hades. But where she felt drawn to Lord Hades, Lord Charon felt more like an older brother who protected her. He was nothing like her half-brothers through Zeus, who only saw her with desire. There was no interest in Lord Charon in that direction. That was how she was able to relax so quickly in his presence.

It took them a few minutes to learn to work together. Lord Charon made shorter, slower movements to accommodate for her smaller reach and lesser strength. She learned how to place the pole and push on it to move them along, though she doubted Lord Charon noticed her efforts at all. After they had developed a rhythm, he continued his story. She was more distracted now that she was working, but still listened as best she could. He still did not speak of Lord Hades. The stories of the titans were wide and varied, but she longed to hear about a more familiar figure.

Lord Charon continued to help her punt the boat across the river. She lost track of how many times they crossed with souls, each time hearing a little more about the titans. Listening helped distract her from fatigue as she worked. She was as stubborn here as she had been with Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos. No matter how her arms and shoulders burned, she would not complain, and she would not quick. And then, as they drew near the end of yet another journey, Lord Charon's story became relevant again: Kronos overthrew Uranus, and was left with the prophesy that one day his own children would supplant him.

She looked up eagerly. Surely, even if the next story did not begin the titan war, the birth of the gods would be covered? They landed the boat. She rested as the spirits disembarked. When the last one was gone, she once more reached for the pole. Lord Charon made no move to help her. She gave him a blank look. Surely he didn't think she could do this by herself?

"Off you get, young Persephone," he told her.

"What?" she asked incredulously. He wanted her to leave now, when they were nearly at Lord Hades' story? Her body was sore and exhausted beyond all measure, but she was willing to put up with more to hear about Lord Hades.

"Surely there are more souls to bring across?" she pleaded.

"Certainly," Lord Charon agreed cheerfully. "There are always spirits to ferry. But I said I'd have you back in time for dinner. You've worked off your passage, and listened to me long enough." He moored the boat and got off, forcing her to follow. She tried to form some argument to stay longer, but her thoughts were wildly scattered. All she could think about was that if Lord Charon continued bringing the ghosts over through the night, by the time she came back here, she could have completely missed Lord Hades' story.

"I enjoyed you company," Lord Charon said. "I hope you come back soon."

"I like hearing your stories," she said, but didn't know how to broach her real desires.

"Thank you. I have thousands of them, so no single one ever gets tired. Every crossing I have a fresh audience to tell them to. I think it's important not to forget our past."

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "Uh, when you go back out again, do you know what you will be telling next?"

His face softened. "Don't worry, little goddess. I will remember where we left off at, and continue from there when I see you next. You'll not miss anything that you want to hear."

"Thank you," she said in relief. She started to turn away. Lord Charon opened the coin pouch at his belt and drew out a handful of the coins. She paused again, curiosity overcoming her.

"What do you do with the coins?" she asked.

"One more question, and you must go or I daresay Hades will have my head for keeping you from his company," Lord Charon laughed. He held up the coins in his hand. "These all came from the Underworld, didn't they?"

His voice was musing, not expecting an answer. "All the gems, the metals, even the bits of wood grow from the earth, and the shells from the minerals formed below the surface. In the end, all things come home again. I collect the coins… and I return them to the Underworld." He opened his fingers, letting the wealth drop to the ground. Instead of laying on top the soil, they were absorbed into it like water into dry earth.

"The wealth of the Underworld returns, to be harvested at a later time," he said prosaically, scattering more coins around him. He must have collected hundreds of them in the time she'd seen, but his coin pouch never looked full. Such a small bag could not have possibly contained all the money he pulled out now. She wondered if it was witchcraft like Lady Hecate, or a part of his power like Lord Thanatos' scythe.

She understood the act of returning the coins. They weren't really bits of currency once they came here. They were _seeds_, from which new mineral veins would grow. Even in these inanimate objects she found signs of life in the Underworld. The next time someone told her the Underworld was a dark, dead place, she was going to laugh in their face.

"Thank you, Lord Charon," she curtsied. Her body wobbled dangerously with her fatigue. She barely managed to straighten without collapsing. She was not looking forward to the long walk back to the palace, especially as she was not entirely sure of her direction.

"Persephone," Lord Charon stopped her. "I'll do you a favor if you do me one."

She faced him wearily. "What can I do for you?"

"I would have you call me Charon, no lords about it," he said. "I am not so formal as to demand it. In return, I will make your trip a good deal shorter." He tossed a coin in the air. As it flipped end over end, it began to grow larger and more transparent, until there was an irregular circle—the same shape as the coin—as large as a person. Through it she could see the front steps of the palace.

She gaped in astonishment. "Do all of you travel like this?" she asked. It was exactly like Lord Thanatos and his scythe-travel, only created by his own symbol: a coin.

"Yep," he grinned. "Hecate can show you how, if you want. So what do you say?"

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Charon."

Charon took her hand and helped her through the passageway without stepped through himself.

"Goodbye, Persephone," he called through the portal. "Come back soon. I have more stories to tell!"

Before she could reply, the circle shrank back to the size of a coin and disappeared. She laughed to herself.

"He does that on purpose," she shook her head, then glanced at the time. If she hurried, she had time for a hot soak before dinner.


	14. Sharing the Warmth

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I'm glad people liked Charon, he was fun to think up. He's a bit cheeky really, as you'll see next week. This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but this was a good place to cut it off at, as next week's chapter features a new perspective and a new subject.**

**I have two reviews to address this week, both from Guest (I don't know if they're from the same person or two different guests who reviewed). The first is a question about what happens to the souls without coins? If you remember way back to chapter 2, as Hades was driving his chariot to the Underworld, they pass that ruined castle with a bunch of ghosts? Those are them. Some of the ghosts looked sharp, and some seemed to be fading away; the ones that were there the longest were the faded ones.**

**The second from Guest was a request to add the Lampades. I have no plans at this time to incorporate those, and if I did, it would probably be a very brief mention like I did with the Furies last week. Sorry!**

**Now onto this chapter! As requested, more Hades and Persephone time! :)**

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Chapter 14: Sharing the Warmth

Hades brooded miserably in his study. He was supposed to be working, but his mind was on the goddess who was his guest. He had been a jerk that morning. He knew it. He needed to put some distance between them, but he hadn't counted on how affectionate she was. How could he push her away when she was never frightened of him? So he forced himself to act as though he felt nothing for her. Thanatos was furious with him, of course. Thinking of his advisor made anger tighten in his gut.

How dare Thanatos act as if he had the right to order him around? Worse was the self-appointed way Thanatos was guarding over Persephone. Not only did the lesser god think to question his actions, but he was also _flirting_ with his goddess! He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, where a headache threatened. He shouldn't care what Thanatos did to Persephone. But he did. It rankled that Thanatos could interact freely with her when he could not. The god hadn't waited for him to be out of the room before moving in on her.

The only consolation was that she didn't appear to enjoy the attention. She bore it well enough, but he could see she was uncomfortable. And when Thanatos leaned in to kiss her… Hades saw red. Watching it happen was bad enough. Seeing her flinch of fear sent him over the edge. He'd wanted to tear into Thanatos right there. He barely clung to his civility as he pulled the other god from the room.

Thanatos had been full of a self-righteous fury, confronting him about his reaction. Hades couldn't admit how painful it was watching someone else woo his love. He denied being jealous, though he was bitterly so. Seeing her rebuff Thanatos reminded him that she could never love him. Thanatos had a younger countenance, was friendly and out-going. If she did not fall for the charms of the lesser god, she would not like the older, sterner Hades.

He fled to the throne room to nurse his battered heart. There was no solace for him there. Judging souls was not restful at the best of times, and once he encountered the old couple, he was lost. It burned to know they had the kind of love he never would. Even the feeling in his heart for Persephone paled in comparison to the years the couple had shared together. He had lived through violence, pain and rage. He learned to endure them all and ground himself against their flash-flood power. It was the happier emotions, joy, love, laughter, that tended to ambush him. They were foreign to him. Having not experienced them himself, he had no defense against them. The couples' love seared at him like acid, leaving him helpless in time for Persephone to find him.

He hadn't wanted her to see how pathetic he'd become in the face of love. He tried to flee. When he ended up on the ground, he'd wanted to die. But instead of leaving him to his misery, Persephone helped him. She couldn't know how much her touch meant to him. He could still feel her hand in his, her fingers on his face, in his hair. She was haunting and enticing all at once. Without her, he couldn't have said how long he would have sat there, suffering. She seemed to follow the clumsy explanation he gave over lunch. To his astonishment, she didn't shun him for it. He didn't want her pity, but he accepted her understanding. During the course of the meal, he forgot about the distance he was supposed to be putting between them.

Until Thanatos came. Hades scowled fiercely. Somehow it was worse that Thanatos asked permission before speaking with her. It was as though the god of death were offering to stand aside for Hades to claim her. Or that Hades already had a right to her, and all others must come through him first. He couldn't do that to her. Persephone was free to choose whoever she wanted… and she wouldn't want him. Still, the way they'd parted left a hole gnawing at his heart. Even if he couldn't be with her in the way he wanted, he still should have been polite to her. He didn't want her to look back at her time here with regret. He didn't want her to see him as a monster. Well, he was a monster, but he didn't have to act like one toward her. And perhaps if he was near her, Thanatos would not feel so free to pursue her. Hades couldn't court her, but he could protect her from unwanted advances.

He resolved to apologize the next time he saw her, and work on being a more courteous host. He made sure he was early to dinner for once. Only Hecate was there before him. He nodded absently to her, which she returned. Thanatos was next. Hades glared at him; the lesser god avoided his eyes and conversed softly with Hecate. Persephone took a long time to arrive. It was late enough that he began to worry she wasn't coming. Had he offended her so badly that she refused to see him? When she did come, her hair was wet and she was breathless.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I fell asleep in the washroom. I didn't mean to keep everyone waiting." She glanced around the room. Hecate and Thanatos nodded briefly to her, and then her eyes landed on him. His heart jolted. She smiled hesitantly, but didn't approach as she used to. He felt as though he had stolen her initiative. It was time to give it back. Everyone was waiting on him to lead them in to dinner, but he let them wait a while longer. He walked up to her slowly. The dampness had darkened her hair and slicked it down. He found himself longing to run his fingers through it, to see how it changed when it was wet. His mind conjured the image of her bathing, just a few minutes ago. He swallowed hard, trying not to think of water cascading down her smooth skin. He could have helped her wash…

His heart pounded in his chest, and his skin felt warm. No wonder she would never look at him with desire; he came to apologize and all he could think of was seducing her in the bath. He was careful not to corner her as he approached, and to give her enough time to move away if she wanted. She didn't move, watching him cautiously.

"May I have a word, Lady Persephone?" he asked quietly, trying not to be overheard. His voice was remarkably steady considering the tangle of emotion coursing through him. She nodded. Her expression was unreadable. It was much harder to speak than he'd expected. As the lord of the Underworld, he did not have to apologize often. This was so important to him, it was difficult to find the right words to make it better. His shadow stretched behind him, making sure Hecate and Thanatos would not approach.

He cleared his throat. "I'd like to apologize for my behavior," he began softly. "Both this morning and this afternoon. I did not act as I should have around you, and I'm sorry if it caused you any distress." He bowed shallowly, and held it, watching her face. Her expression warmed, and a smile lifted her lips. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm to raise him. He straightened.

"I accept, my lord, and I too would like to apologize if any actions of mine caused you to react in that way."

His breath caught in his throat when she said _my lord_, and he wondered what it would take to have her say _my love_ instead.

"No, my actions were entirely my own," he assured her. "I shall strive not to repeat myself." He couldn't help it. She was still touching him and not pulling away. It was such a rare treat for him that it went to his head—and heart. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Her scent teased him as her spring-colored eyes widened. He felt a rush of pleasure that he'd caught her by surprise. Still she didn't pull away, but smiled warmly at him.

"May I escort you into dinner?" he asked, though he would have fought anyone who tried to claim the privilege from him. Her cheeks pinked.

"I'd love that," she agreed. If only it were always that easy to make her happy. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. They walked in together to the dining room. He was aware of Thanatos and Hecate staring at them. They could stare, he thought defiantly. He was proud of the beautiful woman on his arm. It was worth swallowing his ego to make her comfortable around him again. Dinner progressed as usual. Persephone was still quiet, not offering much conversation. She seemed very tired again. He hoped she was not coming down with something, and resolved to ask Hecate—the Underworld's resident physician—about it.

After dinner, Thanatos and Hecate left as soon as they could while still being polite, leaving Hades and Persephone conspicuously alone. He rather pointedly remembered a conversation in which he'd told them _not_ to leave him alone with the maiden. They didn't understand the danger he represented to her. They had too much faith in his control, faith that he lacked in himself. At the moment, though, he couldn't bring himself to care. His instinct to take care of his goddess was currently stronger than his body's lust for her.

"Well, my lady," he began, "What would you like to do this evening?"

"Could we go to your study?" she asked. Her suggestion couldn't have pleased him more.

"Whatever you wish," he replied. "I am yours." He'd meant it flippantly, but it came out serious. She blushed, and her eyes lit up. She held her hand out to him. He took it gratefully and tucked into his arm as they walked to his study. Once there, he led her to couch, but she declined.

"I am feeling a little cold, would it bother you if I stood over the fire for a little time?" she asked.

"Of course not," he said quickly, masking his worry. Was she not adjusting well to being in the Underworld? Did she miss the warm sunlight already? Or was this further evidence of an illness? He cast an eye over her dress. It clung pleasantly to her figure while maintaining modesty. The sleeves went down to her wrists, the neckline was high enough to cover her assets without looking marmish, and the hem was below her ankles. It should have been warm enough for her. Still, maybe he would ask Hecate to make some clothes in a warmer material for her, perhaps from some imported wool? Would yarn grown in the sunlit world comfort her?

He brought her to the fireplace and forced himself to leave her there. His shadow put a couple more logs on the fire and stirred the coals to make the flames higher. He turned away under the guise of searching for something on his desk. His heart pulsed erratically, reminding him of the danger of being alone with her. Why did he torture himself with her presence? Because he loved her too much to stay away. He looked over his shoulder at her.

"Persephone!" he cried. Panic shot through him. She slumped low over the fire, barely keeping her feet. In another second she would _be_ in the fire. He lunged toward her, catching her and pulling her against him. She started and jerked upright, blinking sleepily. He refused to release her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was cold, and the fire felt nice, and I got a little sleepy…"

She still didn't understand her danger. He held her tightly. He was shaking in reaction. It took him a moment to realize that she was still shivering. She leaned on him, trying to burrow into his warmth. His first reaction was to get her a blanket. He knew where the closest one was. It was in his room. On his bed. Only a single door stood between them and his chambers. Somehow he didn't feel it was a good idea to open that door while he was alone with her. He didn't trust his own response to her.

"Well, come sit down by me," he said, bringing her to the couch. He sat and pulled her to his side. She curled up against him without complaint. His shadow draped over her. He made it emit a gentle body heat. She murmured appreciably, relaxing against him. He was very worried about her now. She wasn't acting like normal. Okay, the way she leaned on him was normal, but nearly falling into the fire and being cold wasn't. He touched her cheek, trying to be unobtrusive. She opened her eyes and pressed closer to him. His mouth went dry.

"Hi," she said, pleased and sleepy.

"Hi," he responded softly. Since he was already caught, he cupped his hand to her face. Her skin felt hot, but that could have been from the fire. He couldn't tell if she was feverish. His own skin was enflamed from being so close to her. He was acutely aware of her proximity. She was soft and smelled good. His bed was only a door away. If she was cold, he should take her to his bed and warm her with his body, under the covers. And should she feel grateful to him…

He swallowed hard, badly needing a distraction. "Would you like me to read to you?" he asked, reaching for the scroll on the table next to the desk. He had to drop his hand from her cheek, but that was for the best.

"That would be lovely, thank you," she murmured. Her eyes drifted shut again. He had to fight the urge to kiss her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips… His breathing turned ragged. As if aware of his thoughts, she shifted against him. He stifled a groan as she laid her head on his chest. Her hand covered his heart. Could she feel it pounding?

He cleared his throat, and began reading. He couldn't have said what he spoke. His eyes read the words and his mouth translated them into speech, but they didn't touch his conscious mind. He was too caught up in holding Persephone against him. Her shivers stopped as she warmed up. His voice seemed to reassure her further, for she slipped into sleep within a few minutes. He kept reading for a little while, reluctant to disturb her. Finally he set the scroll aside. He watched her yearningly, then finally succumbed to temptation. He leaned down and rested his cheek on her soft hair. Her rain and flower scent was a balm to his soul.

"What are you doing to me?" he wondered out loud.


	15. More Conversations

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I have a little bit of an announcement. I'm going to be out of town next week, so I won't be able to post on Friday. So look for the next update TWO weeks from now. I'm going to the San Diego Comic Con! It should be amazing! Okay, back to the story. Sorry this is another short update. What do you think Charon's reaction to Persephone will be?**

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**Chapter 15: More Conversations**

After his rather intriguing visitor that afternoon, Charon sought out Hecate and Thanatos. They had kept the news of the goddess to themselves for far too long, and he wanted the story behind her now. He found them in a sitting room, enjoying after-dinner drinks and conversation. Hades and Persephone were nowhere in sight. That made it easier to question the other gods, but it also turned his curiosity rampant. Where were they? Were they _together_? He approached Thanatos and Hecate.

"Who is she, and what is she doing here?" he asked boldly.

They paused in their conversation to look up at him. He didn't come to the palace often. It wasn't that he was not welcome here; it was more of an ongoing disagreement with Hades. Charon remembered a few things that Hades would rather he forgot. Charon refused to forget, and Hades preferred not to remember. It was easiest when they avoided each other. However, the inducement of the new guest had drawn him from his rivers.

"We were just talking about her," Hecate said. "Sit down, you're giving me a crick in the neck."

He pulled a chair over and sat. There was no pretending they didn't know what he was talking about. The young goddess must have stirred them as much as she had him. "So… who is she?" he asked again.

"The daughter of Demeter and Zeus," Thanatos said. "She ran into a bit of trouble in the upper world, and Hades agreed to given her asylum."

"What kind of trouble, and for how long?" Charon asked, determined to find out as much about Persephone as possible. If what he suspected was true… Hecate and Thanatos were indulging his questions despite his rudeness, which meant they were thinking along the same lines as him.

"Some of the gods took a rather avid interest in her," Hecate said grimly. "As for how long, no one has said." She shrugged.

Charon leaned back in his chair. "That's not like him. Hades has not involved himself in the affairs of the upper world before," he mused. "How is he around the girl?"

"Besotted," Thanatos snorted, torn between disgust and amusement.

"He's confused," Hecate said in a gentler tone. "He's drawn to her, but fears he is not an appropriate mate."

"He tried to push her away this morning at breakfast," Thanatos added, shaking his head. "Probably on some awful reasoning that it was for her own good."

Charon rolled his eyes. "Let me guess: he's still on about that being the god of the dead thing?"

"Even more so now because Persephone is a maiden goddess of spring," Hecate said sagely.

Charon sighed. "You would think he'd remember that even though this is where people go after they die, this is also where they wait to be born again. There is as much life as death down here."

"Yes, but we all know how Hades hates to remember certain things," Hecate said with a pointed look at Charon.

"It's his history," he said stiffly. "He shouldn't try to forget it."

"But sometimes it hurts too much to _remember_," Thanatos interrupted before they could start arguing.

There was a short silence, before Charon cleared his throat. "So, what did you do about it?"

"I flirted with her," Thanatos shrugged.

Charon sat back and surveyed the other god.

"You still have all your limbs, he must not be that interested in her."

"On the contrary," Hecate smirked, "He got dragged from the dining room."

"You don't have to be quite so smug about it," Thanatos scowled, rubbing his arm.

"Yes I do."

"Yes she does."

Hecate and Charon exclaimed at the same time. They exchanged an amused look at Thanatos' expense.

"So what did he do to you?" Charon asked.

"Not much," Thanatos confessed. "He couldn't confront me without admitting how much she means to him, so he mostly settled for getting me away from her."

"And what was her reaction to you?"

"Trying to be brave, but mostly frightened. She definitely isn't interested in me. I don't think she sees anyone but Hades."

"That was at breakfast, did they spend any time together since then?"

"I sent her on a trip past the throne room at the same time he would have finished judging," Hecate said proudly.

Charon stared at her. "He lets her watch him judge?"

"And they have lunch together after," she said triumphantly.

"A two hour lunch," Thanatos added with relish. "And they looked quite cozy when I came in, if I do say so myself."

"That does sound promising," Charon nodded in satisfaction. "For my part, I can say that she is completely taken with him. You should have seen her every time I even hinted at his presence."

"You're telling her your stories?" Hecate gasped.

"It was his idea," Charon said nonchalantly, pointing at Thanatos. Hecate turned an accusing look on the god of death. He shrugged.

"She asked to learn more about the Underworld," he said. "Who better than him?" He inclined his head toward Charon. "Besides, it's better that she knows them now, than later when she has already committed," he added firmly.

"And you don't think they will frighten her off early?"

"I'm not sure that's possible at this point," Charon mused. "I don't believe she can be much more committed without a ring on her finger."

Hecate and Thanatos exchanged a look that Charon saw. He leaned forward in his chair.

"And you think so too!" he exclaimed. "You've already been testing her! You, what did you do to her?" He pointed at Hecate.

She raised her chin in defiance. "I've done nothing wrong," she declared, then relented. "But she was interested in the workings of the palace. I took her around like a new maid and set her to every task I could think of. I must have given her a dozen different tasks, and she worked as hard on all of them. I could have been gentler with her, but she never gave a peep of complaint. Even when I set her on the laundry."

"And?" Charon said impatiently, rolling his hand at her.

"And… I agreed to teach her witchcraft," she admitted.

Thanatos started in surprise. "You did? She asked you?" Hecate was notoriously picky when it came to who she taught her witchcraft to. She had turned down kings and other gods before.

"I offered," Hecate sniffed. "I found her a worthy student."

"What did you do to her?" Charon demanded, abruptly shifting his focus to Thanatos.

"I took her around on my foreman rounds," Thanatos began. "Like you said, not a word of complaint, though she didn't know what she was doing and I didn't tell her. Did her best not to slow me down either, even if she was tripping over her feet to keep up."

"But what _happened_?" Charon insisted.

"One of the miners grabbed her, and tried to steal a kiss."

Hecate and Charon stilled, and the air grew thicker. Hades was not the only deadly deity that lived in the Underworld. Three more of them were in that room. Thanatos nodded.

"I wanted to rip the man to shreds with my scythe. I almost did. You can bet that Hades would not have hesitated."

"So why did you?" Hecate accused.

"Because she just _froze_," Thanatos complained. "Didn't try to defend herself or anything. Part of it was her fear from previous encounters, but part of it was that she _gave up_!" He clenched his fists in frustration. Thanatos couldn't stand people who gave up. He never had. "Can you imagine what a liability she would be to Hades? She'd get him killed."

"So what did you do?" Charon asked.

"I got her away from there, and showed her how to get out of a grab. She was still too timid though. I ended up drilling her in defense. She tried to give up, again. Would have laid there and died, until I mentioned Hades. I said some things maybe I shouldn't have, and she came up fighting. I didn't go easy on her either. I couldn't have pushed her harder than if I was sparring with a fury. She would have let me run her into the ground if I didn't stop her."

"Thanatos!" Hecate scolded, while Charon laughed darkly.

"You see?" he said. "Both of you tried to break her today, and she came back for more. You think a few of my stories will scare her away? You're wrong. She's already in love with him."

Both Thanatos and Hecate jumped in surprise.

"Do you truly believe so?" Hecate asked delicately.

Charon nodded. "You don't realize what she's doing? She's learning more about the Underworld to impress him. She wants to fit in so he'd notice her. You two are so blind."

"It isn't like we've had to deal with this before," Thanatos snapped. "He's never shown interest in a woman before."

"Or anyone," Hecate said in a calmer voice. "And the only woman who was interested in him was that evil nymph."

Charon grunted. "True enough. Speaking of Hades and Persephone, where are they, anyway?"

"This time of night? Still in his study, I imagine," Hecate said.

"His study?" Charon choked. His eyes grew wide, and suddenly he burst into loud, deep laughter. The other gods stared at him while he pounded his fist on his leg.

"He's already chosen her as his queen," he gasped between peals of laughter. They continued to give him blank looks.

"Oh, come on," he wheezed. "Don't you see it? He took her to his study! That's like his private sanctuary. It's practically in his bedroom with the connecting door. You can wager he's thinking of bedding her every time he brings her there."

"Don't be crude," Hecate snapped.

"We know he's too honorable to make a move on her," Charon waved his hand dismissively. "That's my point, get it? He _is_ honorable. If he's keeping her so close, then he's considering her for nothing less than his wife and queen."

Stunned silence followed, but there was no disagreement. Charon felt entirely smug to have seen it before them. Then again, there was a lot they had missed about Persephone.

"She's even acting like his queen already," he pointed out reasonably. "She's going around learning about his kingdom."

"She's trying to replace us?" Hecate asked sharply.

"Don't be stupid. She's doing exactly what Hades did when he first came here, after all the… burning… was done. He did everything by himself, until it grew too large for him to handle on his own. He only started to delegate to us a few thousand years ago, when his duties became too much for one person. What she's doing is learning just like him. You know how he still likes to keep his hand in every once in a while. After we've trained her, she'll be fully his equal in rule. I doubt that's why she's doing it. She might not realize that she loves him. But she _is_ doing her best to make him proud of her."

"Bloody Tartarus," Thanatos breathed, then began to grin. Hecate smiled, and the three of them shared a moment of triumphant joy for their lord.

"So," Charon rubbed his hands together briskly. "What's the plan to get them together?"

Smiled slid off two faces. Hecate cleared her throat delicately.

"We've tried that, actually," she admitted.

"It didn't work out so well," Thanatos said flatly.

Charon looked between them in surprise.

"He told us to stop," Hecate added.

"What, and you listened to him?" Charon asked incredulously.

"He _forbade_ us from interfering!" Thanatos snapped.

Charon sat back thoughtfully. "He hasn't forbid _me_ from doing anything," he mused out loud.

Thanatos and Hecate exchanged looks of alarm.

"It might not be a good idea to let Hades know you've been talking to Persephone," Hecate suggested. "He probably won't be pleased by the things you can tell her."

Charon frowned. "It's her right to know, especially once she becomes our queen."

"Truly," Thanatos insisted, "He has forbidden us from acting, but there are still subtle ways that we've been helping. The best thing you can do is continue to share your histories with her. I fear if you attract Hades' attention, he is likely to lash out at both of you. It will ruin his chances with her."

He nodded unhappily. "And what does he think of what the two of you are doing to her?"

Ominous silence answered him. He rubbed a hand over his face. "You aren't telling him. Lovely. There are so many ways this can go wrong. But I understand you, truly I do. You are in my same boat, as it were." He grinned briefly at his pun. "But when he's with her, is he happy?"

"More than we've ever seen him," Hecate confirmed.

He sighed. "Then… I leave it in your hands. But I expect an invitation to the wedding!"

Hecate and Thanatos nodded.

"Would that we be so lucky," Thanatos intoned.


	16. Learning the Underworld

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back from Comic Con! It was awesome, except for one thing: somewhere in the con I lost my kindle. I also had one of my story notebooks in it, which contained the second half of a finished story. I think I'm more bummed about losing the story than about losing the kindle. I WAS done with the story... and now half of it is missing. That's a deep depression, let me tell you. Don't worry, it wasn't Demeter's Wish or Father's Love, for those of you following both my active stories right now. It was another Labyrinth fic that I was going to start posting after FL was done. Guess I'll be pushing that back for a bit...**

**Anyway, back to this story. We reached 100 reviews! Many, many thanks for that! It's been an awesome journey so far, and it's still going! I'm currently working on writing chapter 21, so that gives you an idea of how many chapters I'm ahead at the moment. I'm starting to reach the point of wrapping up and preparing for the climax, so I would say I'm about 2/3-3/4 of the way through the story.**

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Chapter 16: Learning the Underworld

Persephone woke the next morning and couldn't move at first. Her muscles had stiffened during the night, and she felt cemented in place. Her entire body was sore. Shards of glass had replaced her bones; her tendons were frayed ropes. Her skin was frightful to look at, dotted with more bruises than the other gods had given her. She eyed her battered form grimly. If she didn't know better, she would have thought the Underworld was trying to get rid of her.

"I'm not going," she said out loud, then jumped at the sound of her voice. She couldn't tell if the Underworld was actually listening to her, but she thought it best to state her intentions directly.

"I'm not leaving," she said again, drawing strength from her resolution. "I like it here, despite everything." She fretted her lip, then admitted in a whisper, "I love him." She blushed to admit it to the empty room. A feeling of warmth spread from her chest, and she knew she had spoken the truth. She didn't regret her words. They gave her the courage to sit up against the complaints of her body. It hurt, far more than she liked to think about.

She paced the small room until she was no longer walking like an old woman. It was a revelation that goddesses could get that sore. It was as if she was practically mortal! She wished she had time for a long hot soak. Unfortunately she'd already slept later than usual from her exhaustion, and barely had time to dress and make it to breakfast.

For the first time, she arrived at the same time as Lord Hades. She met him the hallway outside the parlor. Her cheeks warmed as she remembered her confession to her room. She felt the sudden urge to admit everything to him. The memory of yesterday held her back. How would he treat her this morning? Like the kind lord he was, or like a perfect stranger that didn't want anything to do with her?

He was startled to see her in the hall. She took a quick look at herself to make sure all her bruises were hidden. Thankfully the dresses she was given covered a lot of skin, and it was easy to conceal the discolorations.

"Lord Hades," she murmured uncertainly, dipping a curtsy. It would have been too painful if she tried to hug him, and he turned away like yesterday.

"Lady Persephone," he returned with a bow. An awkward moment passed as they stared at each other hesitantly. Lord Hades moved first. He offered his arm to her. Her heart rose happily. She moved forward to take it, placing her hand on his firm muscles. It wasn't the hug and kiss she longed for, but it was better than the cruel distance he'd given her yesterday. They walked together into the parlor.

Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos looked up in shock as they entered together. It almost made her laugh. What, did they think she had spent the night with him? Then again, since she always managed to fall asleep in his study at night, she supposed he could have kept her in his rooms, and only returned her to her bed right before she woke. No, not Lord Hades. He was too honorable to take advantage of her in that way. Of course, if he _asked_ her to stay with him, that was another matter entirely. She would have been willing to stay. She didn't know if she could welcome intimacies between them, but she knew he would never force her into anything she didn't want.

Lord Thanatos gave her a piercing stare. She met his eyes boldly. The despite the way he'd beaten her yesterday, she felt no fear of him. Lord Hades reacted strongly to the look the other god gave her. He stiffened, and held her closer. He shifted half a step in front of her, shielding her from view. Her heart jumped happily. Was he jealous of Lord Thanatos' attentions? On one hand, there was nothing to be jealous of. On the other, he wouldn't have cared if he didn't feel _something_ for her. She enjoyed the way he protected her. She felt safe and warm next to him. For the first time she understood what drove Aphrodite to make men fight over her. The fact that Lord Hades was willing to defend her made her feel desired. It was a very heady emotion, and it was hard not to get carried away by it. Growing confident, she laid her head on his shoulder.

He shifted from glaring at Lord Thanatos to looking at her. She smiled for him alone; his face softened. She could feel it in his body, how he relaxed and turned toward her a fraction more. He continued to watch her as they went in to breakfast together. He pulled out the chair next to his. She sat without hesitation, glad to be by his side this morning. His shadow pressed to her legs like normal. She wiggled her toes in delight, glad it was there. His shadow was a part of him that others seemed to avoid for its peculiarity. To her, it was simply _him_ and not strange at all. She even loved his _shadow_, she realized.

Breakfast proceeded cheerfully. Her body ached every time she moved, but her heart soared with each brush against Lord Hades. He was no longer avoiding her. His arm often brushed against hers, sending elation through her chest each time. After breakfast, Lord Thanatos left first. She didn't understand him. Considering the way he'd flirted with her yesterday, he practically ignored her today. Nor did he seem put out that she was on friendly terms with Lord Hades again. She was starting to think he'd never had a genuine interest in her. What was he playing at?

For once Lord Hades was inclined to linger after breakfast. Judgements were waiting, but he took the time to wish her a good day. His hand stayed over hers a moment longer than necessary. She did nothing to encourage him to move on. There was a faint longing in his silver eyes. If she hadn't been determined to continue learning from Lady Hecate, she would have asked if he wanted company. As it was, he bowed over her hand and pressed it one last time. He left while her heart was still thrilling from his touch. Lady Hecate watched them with amusement.

Persephone turned toward to older goddess. "Lady Hecate," she began, "I still want to work and learn from you, but could I ask a favor?"

"And what would that be?" Lady Hecate asked skeptically.

"Slightly before lunch, could I leave a little early?"

"Oh? Trying to skive off work already? Was I too hard on you, little girl?" Lady Hecate said in a sickly sweet voice.

Persephone's temper flared. "No, forget it," she snapped. "I'd rather work than have you accuse me of slacking off." She was hurt by Lady Hecate's accusation. Hadn't she proved that she was willing to work no matter what was thrown at her? At the same time she was disappointed that her request was denied. Her eyes burned stupidly, but she refused to cry.

"Now don't get feisty with me," the older goddess warned. "What did you want to time off for?"

She swallowed another angry retort. "I was hoping to watch Lord Hades judge the souls. We like to discuss it afterwards, and it's easier to join in when I've seen some of the judging."

"And how long were you thinking of watching him?"

She'd been hoping for an hour. "Half an hour?" she asked instead. Based on Lady Hecate's reaction, she doubted even that would be approved. Lady Hecate considered her thoughtfully.

"Very well then," she said after a tense moment. "I will give you two hours to be with your beau."

Persephone gaped. Two hours! It was more than she'd dreamed of! "Thank you, Lady Hecate," she stammered. "So generous… two hours… surely too much…" Then the exact words Lady Hecate used struck her. Her entire face colored.

"We're not—" she mumbled. "Lord Hades doesn't—It isn't like that, with us."

Lady Hecate's face was filled with unholy glee. "Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"Yes," Persephone said firmly. "Lord Hades—" She sighed, both longing and resignation. It was hard to admit the truth. "He is a king. And I am only a minor spring goddess. He wouldn't look at me like that." It felt important to explain she _knew_ there was no future with him. She didn't want to look like a grasping seductress. She had hoped that he might see her as more than a little goddess foisted on him by Demeter. Who was she kidding? She never had a chance to attract someone as powerful as the lord of the Underworld. She hung her head, her heart squeezing painfully.

"Two things," Lady Hecate said sharply. "First, I don't believe there is something _only_ about anyone, no matter how minor they think they are. Second, I suggest you ask Hades about what he feels before you assume for him." For once she wasn't sarcastic.

Persephone nodded, though she didn't believe it. In a certain light, Lady Hecate's statement was _almost_ encouragement. She knew the real truth. Lord Hades must have many suitors stronger and more beautiful than her. He had no reason to actually look at her.

"Well, enough dawdling," Lady Hecate said abruptly. "There's work to do."

And work they did. Lady Hecate was merciless in driving her. It was as though the goddess of witchcraft was intent on getting four hours of work out of her in the remaining two hours they had. She didn't complain. The older goddess was being very generous to allow her the two hours with Lord Hades. The least she could do was work hard and not make Lady Hecate regret it.

Her body was very sore in the beginning. Thankfully not all the chores were physically demanding, allowing her time to warm up. It seemed once her muscles had loosened, Lady Hecate started in on witchcraft to activate her mind. She had a difficult time multitasking, and Lady Hecate was quick to chide her inattentiveness. Eventually she fell into a kind of trance, where she was able to direct her physical motions while still working on witchcraft. Lady Hecate appeared satisfied that she could do the work, and left her alone except for new instructions.

It was hard to maintain the trance. It required intense focus. She could feel her mind stretching as she learned the skill. A headache lingering in the background, like a muscle used too hard, but it wasn't important in the moment. No gain came without a bit of pain and struggle. It was worth it in the end. Whatever else happened while she was in the Underworld, she would always be able to do more than she could before. She would always be able to take that focus with her.

She got lost in the endless work, her hands busy cleaning while her mind worked in the new patterns of witchcraft. She couldn't _do_ anything with the witchcraft yet; Lady Hecate said she would be very limited until she managed to manifest her goddess power as witchcraft magic. To do that required the intense focus she was building up. Maybe she felt something stir inside her, but she wouldn't know until it became visible. Lord Thanatos worked his magic through his scythe, and Charon through his coins. Lady Hecate used purple-black orbs to do her magic. Persephone didn't know what form her magic would take. She felt like she was reaching for something just beyond her reach. Sometimes her fingertips brushed it, but she couldn't tell if she was bringing it closer or knocking it further away. It was tantalizingly close, teasing her with the almost-there presence of it. If she could only reach a little bit more, like standing on her tip-toes…

"That's enough for now," Lady Hecate interrupted brusquely, "You can go running along to your beau."

Persephone's focus shattered. The thing she was reaching slipped out of her grasp like it never existed. The scrubbing brush fell out of her hands to splatter on the floor. And a sudden, vicious headache bloomed in her skull.

"Oh, ow," she gasped, bending over and pressing the heels of her hands to her forehead. She forgot what Lady Hecate had said. There was only pain.

"That's a good sign," Lady Hecate said, pleased. "It means you've almost got it. It will hurt the first few times you learn to access your power, but once you get used to it, it won't hurt at all. Take a few deep breaths. It's not as bad as you think."

No, it was far worse than she thought. She felt like her mind was being ripped apart. She wanted to curl into a ball and scream with the pain, but it hurt too much to move. It was nearly impossible to follow Lady Hecate's advice. She took in one shaky breath, not very deep. Even that seemed to help a little. She focused only on breathing, and the agony began to fade into normal migraine levels, instead of death-inducing ones.

Only once the pain in her head reduced did she feel the soreness in the rest of her body. Everywhere hurt as if she'd gone another round with Lord Thanatos. There were tender areas on her fingers where blisters were coming in. Her back ached from bending over, her knees hurt from kneeling, and her arms and shoulders ached from scrubbing. Was this really worth what she was putting herself through? She thought of the focus she'd learned, and Lady Hecate's grudging respect. Yes, it was.

She raised her head. Lady Hecate was still watching her shrewdly. That meant her work-shift was over, right? She vaguely remembered Lady Hecate saying something to that effect, though it was probably in less than flattering terms.

"Thank you, Lady Hecate," she rasped. Her throat was dry. She began to hobble away, trying to straighten her body again. The older goddess suddenly grabbed her arm. Her expression was uncharacteristically sincere.

"If you make him happy, that is thanks enough for me," she said somberly.

Persephone nodded dully, still able to form complicated thoughts. There was no question who they were talking about. It was as though all conversations in the Underworld included Lord Hades. Of course she wanted to make him happy. Wasn't it more of a question if he could be happy with her? Lady Hecate released her arm, and she left at last.

She reached the throne room and paused inside the door. Lord Hades was in the thick of judging. He was so majestic he took her breath away. She forgot her hurts as she took a moment to admire him: powerful, handsome, stern. Those same silver eyes led to Tartarus and Elysium at once. He could be grim, he could be mischievous. And he could be so kindhearted it made her yearn for him. She thought of Lady Hecate's words, and realized she would do anything to make him happy. There were already lines of strain around his eyes and mouth. She longed to ease his burden.

She moved along the line of spirits, trying to be unobtrusive. The last thing she wanted was to interrupt everything like a beggar woman stumbling into the court of the king. The hardest part was crossing the open space to reach him. She didn't like feeling so exposed. Lord Hades noticed her approach. For a moment his face remained grimly impassive. She faltered, doubting her welcome. And then his expression lightened. It was a subtle change; his eyes were more alive, his face was not so set. She doubted anyone else would have seen it. To her it was a gift of confidence. He took a few extra seconds between judgements as she moved to him. He didn't reach for her, but she didn't expect it. Here he was god and king, while she was a lowly supplicant. Only in private were they… friends? Companions? Whatever they were.

She curtsied to him, and took the same place she had before: at his feet, leaning on his legs. The deep lines of exhaustion on his face faded slightly. His shadow crept over her legs like a lap blanket. He touched the top of her head lightly. Though he said nothing, she felt his gratitude. It made her feel better about coming to watch him judge.

He turned back to his duties. She had learned from the first day of watching him that when she was touching him, she got a small part of what he felt. It wasn't the full force of experiencing the mortal lives like he did. It was more like she caught glimpses of the things that mattered most to the humans. Births. Deaths. Loves. Hatreds. Their greatest triumphs and their greatest failures. She didn't know everything about them, but she had an idea of what happened, and how the person felt about it.

She savored those defining moments, for they were often things she had never experienced. Having a child. Taking a first lover. Losing a family member. The pain was as intoxicating as the pleasure. She was a goddess, and would live for thousands of years. Yet these mortals lived more in their short lives than she ever had. She longed to experience life for herself. Viewing these glimpses was like reading about them in a scroll, only far more vivid.

Another things those brief flashes of mortal life were good for was in judging the souls. Once she saw what they held as important, she could almost always guess where Lord Hades would send them. She made careful note of the few times when she was wrong, so that she could ask him about it later. She knew better than to contradict him in public. It didn't feel right to question his authority, and in any case she trusted his judgement better than her own. He had been doing this far longer.

Two hours passed quicker than she thought possible. The souls and guards filtered out, leaving them alone in the throne room. This was her favorite time. She didn't like the way Lord Hades suffered, but it was the only time when she felt she could actually help him. He made her feel needed. She stood and faced him. As usual, he was immobilized by pain and exhaustion. Watching mortal lives made her eager to experience more, but it took something vital out of him.

His eyes watched her, dull and sunken. Her heart went out to him. She leaned in and pressed her palm to his cheek. His skin was feverishly warm.

"You sacrifice so much for your realm," she whispered. "And then you hide away your torment so no one knows the truth. What did you ever do to deserve such punishment?"

It was the wrong question to ask. He looked away in shame. She barely stopped herself from gaping at him. He really did think he had done something horrible to deserve this pain. She was equally certain that no matter what he had done, he'd already paid the price for it long ago.

"No," she said firmly, turning his head to face her again. "I didn't mean it like that. I should have asked, what did they do to deserve you, when you spend so much of yourself to help them?"

His gaze remained doubtful. Frustrated, she leaned over him and kissed his forehead. Her dirty-blond hair fell around them like a curtain. He gasped in shock, seeming to breathe in her essence. Without warning his arms came up and pulled her into his lap. He held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. Something inside of her thrilled at the way he took charge, no longer passive with pain, but seizing what he needed. And what he needed, at least for now, was her. She felt complete in his arms. Her fingers stroked through his blue curls, enjoying their softness. She reclined against him in pleasure. Her face nestled into the hollow of his throat. She loved the way his warmth soaked into her, and being surrounded by his strength. His shadow was a vast, inky pool around them, warning all others to stay away. She was his.

That was when she realized she'd lied to Lady Hecate, unintentionally. Lord Hades might not be her beau, but she couldn't pretend their relationship was strictly platonic. She didn't know what he wanted from her, but she knew she was willing to give this a chance.

They stayed together for several minutes, while Lord Hades slowly recovered. He stirred, loosening his hold on her. She missed his tight grip. She kept her body heavy and pliant against his. He made no move to push her away.

"I really should get a chair for you," he mused.

She felt a stab of disappointment. "I wish you wouldn't," she admitted softly.

He shifted to look at her. "Why?"

"Because I like being close to you," she said. "You can't put a chair next to you because it would look like another throne. The only other place for me would be against the wall so I wouldn't be in the way."

He watched her silently, not speaking for such a long time she feared she had offended him.

"I don't like watching you kneel in front of me like a slave waiting on their owner," he said at last, revealing his reason for the chair.

She started in surprise. She had never considered it that way. "That's not how I see it," she explained. "I think of it more like an apprentice come to learn at the feet of a master."

"An apprentice?" he smiled, "Do you intend to take over for me when I retire?"

Her heart jolted unpleasantly. "Are you planning on retiring soon?"

"No," he said slowly. "I don't think retirement is what the Fates have in mind for me."

No, gods generally didn't retire. If they were removed from their duties, it was usually by death. She shuddered at the thought of Lord Hades ceasing to exist, and pressed closer to him.

"Very well," he said suddenly. "I will try to think of it your way. And since you are to be my apprentice, I insist you share a meal with me as I impart my bounteous wisdom to you." He managed to look lofty and absurd at the same time.

"I wouldn't dream of anything else," she giggled. One side of his mouth rose in a half-smile that had her entranced. He stood, still holding her. Only reluctantly did he set her down, her body sliding against his as he placed her on her feet. His hands trapped her against him; she didn't try to escape. His warm, callused palm cupped her cheek. She leaned into his touch. His eyes darkened. Her heart raced. She waited, scarcely breathing. Whatever he was about to do, she wanted it. She was willing to be his, if he wanted her. She didn't know if she was worthy of him, but she would strive to not disappoint him.

He drew in a ragged breath—and abruptly turned away from her. She stifled a cry of pain. She faced away from him to hide her despair. What had she done wrong? Maybe he didn't want her after all, and everything she'd hoped for was wrong. She kept her back to Lord Hades, hugging herself tightly.

He cleared his throat and asked, "Are you ready for lunch?"

She couldn't respond. She was fighting back tears from the ache in her heart.

"Lady Persephone?" He touched her shoulder lightly. She flinched. How could he still touch her when he obviously didn't want anything to do with her? His hand fell away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I understand if you don't want to eat with me."

Did she? No, she didn't. She wanted to run away and nurse her wounds. At the same time, she was reluctant to give up the time she spent with him. Who knew when he was going to tire of being a host and send her away? What had she called herself a few minutes ago? An apprentice. So then she would act like one and learn from Lord Hades. It would be no different than her lessons from Lady Hecate, Lord Thanatos, or Charon. She allowed the thought to strengthen her as she faced Lord Hades again.

Despite her resolve, she faltered when she saw the look of remorse on his face. Maybe… he was not as indifferent to her as she thought. It made it easier to speak.

"I would still share your company and learn from you, my lord," she said in a gentler tone than she'd intended.

His eyes flashed in surprise, but he didn't push her away. He offered his arm to her. She took it, scarcely resting her fingers on his sleeve. He led her to the dining room. They sat down to eat, and an awkward silence threatened to fall. Lord Hades seemed disinclined to speak. It reminded her of when he pulled her from the river. He had hidden his words behind his actions. She'd grown used to the sound of his voice, and was determined to draw it out of him again.

She began asking questions about the judgements as if she really was his apprentice. For the first time she asked about how he had developed his ability to peer into souls. His answers were stiff and hesitant. Part of it was the tension that remained between them, but part of it was that this was something else he had never put into words before. She didn't understand the people who lived in the Underworld. If _she_ lived here, she would have found out everything she could about her ruler and this realm. It seemed no one else had an ounce of curiosity about Lord Hades. She was only a visitor, and she was still trying to learn all she could!

Lord Hades began to relax as he warmed to the topic. He placed his arm on the back of her chair. She had a hard time masking her surprise. Was he back to touching her now? Should she ask him? She didn't want to draw attention to his position if he hadn't realized what he'd done. They were so engrossed in conversation that it was possible. She said nothing, but gradually leaned into his arm. A thrill of bliss went through her when his fingers absently brushed her shoulder. Whatever their earlier conflicts, they would be alright.

They were still talking a couple hours later when Lord Thanatos came to summon Lord Hades for work.

"Late again," Lord Hades said in a bored tone, as if discussing weather.

"No pressing business," Lord Thanatos responded in the same tone.

Persephone was torn. On one hand, she wanted to go with Lord Thanatos to keep learning about his duties. Even knowing that he would likely put her through another self-defense lesson didn't deter her. Other the other hand, things had been so rocky with Lord Hades lately that she was afraid of doing anything to upset their precarious balance. She liked when he could lean on him, and he'd put his arms around her. When he pushed her away, it tore a hole in her heart. She didn't dare look at Lord Thanatos, and he was carefully avoiding her as well. The fragile truce with Lord Hades was too precious to risk.

He left for his study. She pretended to go to the library, but as soon as he was out of sight, she doubled back to meet Lord Thanatos. He was waiting for her in the hallway.

"In the future," he said coolly, "I expect to meet you on the front steps at this time."

She nodded, but felt a pain of guilt at deceiving Lord Hades about her destination. Perhaps if she explained what they were doing, he'd be more accepting?

"Do you think it's okay like this, meeting behind Lord Hades' back?" she asked.

Lord Thanatos suddenly blocked her path with his scythe. "Let me make something very clear," he said in a deadly serious voice. "I would do anything to avoid causing Hades pain. We are not lovers meeting behind his back. You asked to learn about the Underworld, and I obliged. There is nothing else between us. Should Hades discover our meetings, I will tell him precisely that. However, I am willing to avoid informing him now, because I believe that at this point, the knowledge can only cause him pain. Is that understood?"

She nodded, surprised at his intensity. He was deeply loyal to Lord Hades. It confirmed that he was the right one to go to when she asked to learn about this realm.

"I understand," she replied. "And Lord Thanatos? I too would do anything to avoid hurting him."

A thin smile touched his hawkish features. "Then we are in accord," he agreed. With that, he cut the air with his scythe, and they were off.

The first hour with him was more inspections. She didn't find the mineshafts to be quite so overwhelming. They were still confining and bothersome, but she could tolerate it. The hardened miners didn't intimidate her like they used to. She was under no illusion that she could fend them off if they went for her, but now she knew she was willing to fight if she had to. It gave her enough confidence that no one tried to grab her this time.

The second hour, he brought her to a fallow field for self-defense lessons. She went at it grimly. Once more, she spend a lot of time on the ground. She had foolishly hoped that with a little bit of experience, she couldn't be thrown down quite so often. She was wrong. If anything, her body seemed clumsier and slower than yesterday. Lord Thanatos was so far beyond her skill that she had no hope of defending herself against him, or landing a blow on him. In the meanwhile, he found all the bruises that had formed overnight, and compounded on them.

She bit her lips against the pain, refusing to cry out. She didn't want to show any form of weakness. It was a frustrating experience. A long grueling hour passed, until he threw he to the ground particularly hard. Her body seized up, coughing and retching. She couldn't get up. Even when she started to get her breath back she was weak and disorientated. Despite that, she tried to rise. Lord Thanatos did not tolerate failure or slacking off. He knelt by her. She flinched, still trying to move.

"Stay down," he told her, pressing lightly on her shoulder. That was all he needed to hold her in place.

She gasped for breath for a moment. "No," she managed, and tried to brush his hand off. He resisted her easily.

"Stay down," he repeated. "I wouldn't continue on with you even if you could get up. Part of your training is learning how to push past your limits—and when to respect them. This is your limit. Respect it."

Given permission to rest, she relaxed slightly. She had a feeling tomorrow's bruises would be truly spectacular. She would have to make sure her dress covered all the bruises. They would make the ones from this morning look like nothing.

It took her a very long time to sit up, long enough that she began to worry about permanent injury. The bruises and such hurt a lot, but they were all surface marks that didn't seriously hamper her. Not being able to stand meant there was more serious damage under the bruising. Eventually she made it to her feet, wobbling. She paced back and forth a few times, growing steadier as she went. Lord Thanatos rose with contemptuous ease.

"Shall I take you to Charon?" he asked.

"Yes, please," she confirmed, and he opened a slash in the air.

The foggy river bank was exactly as she remembered it. She wondered if it ever changed, or if it was always like this. A shadow appeared on the water and became Charon's boat. She strained to hear his story, but though his voice carried to the shore it was too indistinct to make out the words. Charon waved to them after the souls had been taken away.

"Hello, Thanatos, Persephone. It's good to see you again."

Lord Thanatos nodded.

"Lord Charon," she curtsied. Charon staggered, holding a hand to his chest.

"Persephone!" he chided. "I thought we had a deal. You wound me!"

She laughed. "Charon," she corrected, with a nervous glance at Lord Thanatos. He didn't appear to care about the informal address. He took his leave of them. Persephone got on the boat and moved to help Charon with the pole. He waved her off.

"No, sit down. You look like you could use a rest. You can help me on the next trip."

She sat gratefully. After Lord Thanatos' tender administrations, she didn't feel up to much. She was better able to relax with Charon, knowing he wasn't about to snap at her. They reached the far bank and loaded the spirits. She gave the ferryman a questioning look. He shook his head, letting her rest more. It was nice the way they didn't have to speak to understand each other.

He began his story. True to his word, he began where he had left off yesterday, with the birth of the gods. For once the story was familiar to her. Everyone knew how Rhea had tricked Kronos, and Zeus had come back to save everyone. In truth, she was a little disappointed to hear it again. For all that Zeus was her father and the king of the gods, it was Lord Hades that she wanted to hear about.

Except Charon's story began with the old tale, and abruptly veered away from the usual course. The heroism of Zeus was barely mentioned. Instead, Charon focused on the newborn gods emerging into the world. They were fully formed as adults, but even so there was a coltish exuberance about them. She had never heard about this before. Charon's words made it easy to imagine them experiencing the sky, wind, the earth for the first time. Was the world a place of wonder for them, or was it immediately filled with the horrors of the titan war?

She was saddened when the voyage came to an end, and with it the story. She had a feeling the next tale would be grimmer. This time when she got up to take her place at the pole, Charon didn't try to stop her. Of course she still needed his help. It would probably be years before she developed that kind of strength to push the boat by herself. For a moment the thought cheered her. If she was still here years from now, that would mean she worked out something with Lord Hades, right? She could only hope.

The next batch of ghosts boarded, and she listened eagerly for the next installment of Charon's histories. He did not disappoint. The next several stories he told were about the titan war. Once again these stories were half-familiar from Demeter's haphazard teaching. However, they differed widely in one respect. The histories she'd heard before mostly focused on Zeus, and how he led the gods to victory. It was his prowess, leadership, and cunning that won battle after battle. It was obvious who had written the histories.

The ones that Charon told were more even in their coverage of the original six gods. To her pleasure, most of the focus was on Lord Hades, but not to the exclusion of everything else. Credit was given where it was due to all the gods, not just Zeus or Lord Hades. It felt like a more honest history than the one she had learned as a child.

She found the tales of Lord Hades fascinating. She suspected Charon was deliberately toning down the war aspect of the stories for her sake. Some day she would prove she was not too delicate to hear it all, but for now she was grateful for any word of Lord Hades. It was hard to reconcile the horror stories Athena and Artemis had told her with the deliberate warrior that Charon described. Somehow she thought the real truth was somewhere between the truth. She _would_ have it one day, she vowed, whether it was from Charon or form Lord Hades himself.

She was so caught up in the telling that she was surprised when Charon took the pole from her.

"It is time already?" she asked in shock.

He grinned at her. "I'd say it was my rugged good looks that had you so entranced, but I think rather it was my subject matter, hm?"

She blushed. "Your stories are very interesting," she began, then followed a hunch. "But there's more than you're telling me, isn't there?"

He laughed. "There's _always_ more to the story. I cannot tell them half so well as Hades, and I have not told you half what I could! Now on you get, your dinner companion is waiting for you."

He flipped a coin in the air to create a passage for her, and she stepped through with an eager heart.


	17. Creating a Flower

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! This chapter I wanted to start a little differently, I hope you enjoy it. We get to dive back into Hades' perspective and see what he thinks of everything that's going on. He isn't as block-headed as he seems to be, or at least I hope not! This is Hades finally acting on his emotions, even if he's trying to hold them back a bit.**

**Also a bit of non-story related good news: remember I said I lost my kindle and my story at the Comic Con? I emailed the lost and found department, and they found my kindle! I should be receiving it in the mail in a day or two! I really excited to get it back!**

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Chapter 17: Creating a Flower

There was a secret courtyard within the palace walls. It was enclosed on all sides, and cleverly designed to look like dead space, or perhaps part of another room. Only by careful exploration could one determine there was actually something hidden in the back part of the castle. Even flying over it—as if there were birds in the Underworld—would reveal only an unremarkable corner, no doubt an unused yard attached to one of the palace outcroppings.

The courtyard was not large. It would have made a small pleasure-garden for a lady, with enough space to have a variety of plants, but not so big that she could not do all the work herself within a couple hours. Two people have practiced close range combat, but not stretched their legs to run. It could have been used for storage, or drying laundry, or as a picnic area. It was used for none of those things.

The courtyard was painfully stark and empty. Nothing grew in the bare dirt, not even weeds. Not a stick of furniture was to be seen. No debris collected in the corners. No decorations to soften the harsh, thick walls. It was built on the backside of the castle, away from the garish torchlight of the town. No sounds penetrated the courtyard, no light besides the ambient Underworld glow. It looked forlorn, forgotten, and barren.

It wasn't.

One man knew of its existence. Hades stood at the plain wooden door that was the only entrance to the courtyard. He hesitated before entering. This place was almost sacred to him. If gods worshipped other beings, this would have been his temple. This secret, quiet place was where he came to rage. It was where he came to weep. And this was where he came to fret.

He removed his shoes and set them aside in the hallway. Instead of his usual bright clothes, dyed with gem dust, he wore unadorned homespun cotton, crafted from the fields of the Underworld. He felt closer to his realm that way. Slowly he stepped onto the courtyard dirt. Instantly he felt the thrum of the Underworld's power. The glow that came from the land and air brightened in recognition. Other people might see the courtyard as dull and lacking, but to him it was filled with vast potential.

He walked into the center of the courtyard, enjoying to cool earth beneath his feet. He knelt and ran his fingers through the loose soil. So many believed the Underworld to be dead. Only he knew that it had a pulse. That it _breathed_. He had never been able to decide whether the Underworld was a truly sentient being, or simply a realm that was aware of itself. It was as far beyond him as he was to a mortal, and that mortal was to an ant. All he knew was that it had accepted him as ruler and creator.

He called on the power of the Underworld. It came to him eagerly, twining around his fingers like a cat. A smile formed on his face, despite the trouble in his mind. Oh yes, this was also where he came to _create_. Every plant now growing in the fields he had first made here. Every tool his servants used, the things he couldn't barter for in the living world, he made them here. Once made, it was easy to propagate them, but here was where they first came into being.

He pulled at the energy. It flowed into his hands, molten and shivering. Filaments of silvery-blue Underworld light threaded through his shadow as the realm's vitality mixed with his own. When he had enough power in his hands, he sat back and began to knead it. He didn't try to form it into a specific shape, like when he had created the plants. He let the power dictate how it would form. The Underworld would tell him what it wanted to become. He thought better when his hands were busy, and he had come to the courtyard to think.

He was worried about Persephone. When she first came to the Underworld, she had been bright and inquisitive. That had faded over the last week. Tomorrow was his day off, making it now a full week since she came here. She had become quiet, and didn't ask questions except when they were in private. She carried on with her usual actions, but there was something missing her in. Persephone tried to hide it, but she was exhausted all the time. She fell asleep almost as soon as she reached his study every night. As he was the one to carry her to bed, he was sure she was losing weight. Her skin was sallow, her eyes were sunken, her hair was dull. Something was off about her. It frightened him beyond reason.

Hecate was no use when he went to her yesterday. He was supposed to be working in his study, but he stole away to speak with his advisor.

"My lord," she greeted when he approached her. "What brings you here?" She was busily beating dust out of a carpet. He took up a switch and helped her; he hated standing around while others were working. The other servants stared at seeing their lord at such a mundane task.

"What do you think of P—Lady Persephone?" he asked. It was getting harder to remember to use her title. In his mind, she was always only Persephone.

Hecate smiled. "She is a very fine goddess," she responded. "Very dedicated when she puts her mind to it. I could not be more pleased with her."

Her answer did not satisfy him. "How do you think she is doing here?"

"Well enough. Considering the circumstances, I'd say very well."

"You don't think she is becoming ill, do you?" he pressed.

Hecate shook her head. "No, I believe she is only adjusting to being down here."

"Do you think she is… happy?" He had to grit his teeth to say it. He hit the rug harder than necessary and the switch creaked ominously in his hands.

Hecate took a moment to answer. "I think she misses companionship at times."

His missed the rug, hit the rail it was hanging over, and broke the switch completely in two.

"She is not happy here," he said grimly. His heart hurt for her. It felt like a dismal failure on his part.

"I did not say that," Hecate said sharply. "I only meant that she is lonely at times. She is cut adrift of all that she knows."

"She knows and spends time with you," he pointed out.

"But I am not the one she longs for," she said with a pointed look at him.

He did not reply. He carefully set the broken switch aside and walked away. Hecate might like to believe that he was the one Persephone wanted to spend time with, but he doubted it. She already spent at least four hours a day with him, not counting dinner and breakfast. If the young goddess was missing anyone, it was Demeter. His dark presence could not make up for the bright mother that had raised her.

After Hecate, Hades briefly entertained the idea of asking Thanatos if he'd seen any change in Persephone. He quickly decided against it. The thought of Persephone and Thanatos together made a hard knot in his chest. He didn't need Thanatos' advice anyway. He already had a good idea of what was wrong with her.

She had grown up in the sun, hadn't she? She was used to growing things, _living_ things. Here in his realm there was no sunlight, and precious little life. Everything that grew here was sustained by the power of the Underworld, not the spark of life she had known above. Homesick was one word for what was ailing her. Wilting was another. Like a bloom with no light, she was growing weaker, fading. The solution was easy. Carrying it out was not. She needed to be returned to the sun. A stab of panic went through him. He wasn't _ready_. He hadn't figured out how to protect her outside his realm.

More, he wasn't sure he _could_ give her up. She was ingrained in his heart and soul. How could he release her except to rip out those bits of himself? If Demeter came down in person to demand her daughter back, he would refuse. Yes, he'd start a war over the young maiden. It wasn't fair! Demeter had an entire sunlight world to entertain her. In his life, his only source of comfort was Persephone. How could he give that up?

Tomorrow was his day off; he could allow Persephone to visit her mom. He would accompany them aboveground. His presence would be more than enough to deter any god looking for trouble. He could bring Cerberus for support. The hound was fond of her as well. The problem was that once Persephone got a taste of the living world, she wouldn't want to leave. He couldn't allow her to stay.

He snorted suddenly. Listen to him, talking about allowing her to go or stay. As if he had a right to dictate her movements. If she asked to go home today, he would take her. No matter how much pain it caused him. Her happiness was paramount to his own. Wasn't there any way to make her happy in his realm? A thought occurred to him guiltily. It was no better than shameless bribery, but if it kept her by his side a while longer… He would be able to enact his plan tomorrow, when he had more time to spend with her.

His mind made up, his hands quickly finished the item he had created. It was a flower, a narcissus. He'd never made a flower before, save for the asphodels. That had been a melancholy day for him. But the narcissus was beautiful and delicate. It was soft and cool in his hand. He brought it to his nose and sniffed. Yes, it smelled like a real flower too. It had that Underworldly translucence that everything created down here had. He thought it fitting that the Underworld had made a flower while he wrestled with the issue of Persephone. Perhaps it was trying to tell him that she missed flowers, and he should make more for her. Or was it a reminder that she was beautiful and delicate like the narcissus, and he needed to treat her accordingly? If he was to have any hope of enticing her to his side, he needed to make himself worthy of her.

He brought the flower with him to dinner, after he'd changed his clothes. It was a reminder to himself to treat Persephone as she deserved, not as his possession. As usual, he was the last to arrive in the parlor. His eyes automatically sought out Persephone. She was leaned against the wall, body drooping with fatigue. She looked up as he came toward her. Her attention was caught by the bloom in his hand.

"I haven't seen many flowers here," she commented absently.

"It's for you," he blurted without thinking.

Her face lit up, exhaustion temporarily forgotten. "Really? Thank you!" She took the flower in her slim fingers and smelled it. She sighed in pleasure, then placed it behind her ear. He was jealous of the flower, until she leaned up to him and kissed his cheek. She hadn't done that since her first couple days here. Her natural scent of rain and flowers was even more heady with the fragrance of the narcissus in her hair.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "I love it."

A shiver of pleasure ran up his spine. It seemed to him that she lingered, leaning into him, before she recalled herself and moved away. He was unable to speak. He mutely offered his arm to her, and brought her in to dinner. She made an effort to be more lively during the meal. He would plant an entire garden of flowers for her, if this was her reaction to a single one. Maybe that would invite her to stay with him a while longer.

That night in his study, she was still wearing the flower when she fell asleep in his arms. There was a smile on her face. She brought the narcissus to breakfast the next morning too, woven in her hair. He managed to arrive early enough to have a quiet word with Hecate. The goddess of witchcraft was unable to hide her surprise at his request, but she was quick to agree to it. And then Persephone walked in, wearing _his_ flower in her hair, and he was unable to think of anything else. It sent a warm thrill through him. She smiled shyly at him as he greeted her. He led her to breakfast with his hand on the small of her back. Afterwards, he invited her to sit through the judging with him. She hesitated, looking at Hecate. He would have been _seriously_ displeased if the older goddess had tried to delay her. Thankfully, Hecate was fully on his side for this, even if he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Go on, child," Hecate waved her on. "You both deserve this."

Persephone moved toward him eagerly. He held out his hand to her, and she placed hers in it trustingly. He brought her hand to his mouth, but it wasn't enough for him. He pulled her against him and put an arm around her waist. She jumped, but quickly relaxed into him. He hadn't dared to hold her this close since his last day off. His control was slipping. After a week of pretending to be a good host, he was tired of it.

This was his day off, the one day where he could allow himself to act the way he really felt. He loved her. His words were silent, but he smiled at her more. He touched her more. His only fear was that she would pull away from him. Instead she seemed to relish the attention, glowing with happiness despite the tiredness that lingered on her. What if the only thing she needed to be happy down here was love? Could she possibly accept love from him?

She settled in her usual spot against his legs as he began judging. He still felt uneasy about her submissive position. She might not see anything wrong with it, but it felt wrong to place her in a lesser place by his side. It rankled when she told him he couldn't put a chair beside his. He didn't like being told what to do. He often clashed with Zeus, because Zeus had a tendency to tell others what to do, and Hades had a tendency to ignore him.

Persephone was right, though. A chair next to his would look like another throne. Hard on that thought another occurred to him: of course it would look like a throne, because it would be one. It would be _her_ throne. The revelation burned through him like wildfire. Why not? Why couldn't he do that? What possible downside could there be to making her a throne, and placing her on it with all the implications that came with it? She would be his _queen_. Thanatos had talked about claiming Persephone as his own, but he would go further than that: he would make her his queen. His wife. He felt such a sharp longing for it that he felt weak without it.

Persephone's warmth by his leg jolted him back into reality. If he carried out his plan, there was no doubt that she would be protected from the other gods. She would be his equal in power, unlike Hera and Amphitrite who were pretty figureheads but did not share their husbands' authority. Husband. He gulped. Yes, that was a very big obstacle indeed. If he carried through with this plan, Persephone would be married to him for eternity. He had no doubts about his love and fidelity toward her, but would she consent to being bound to a creature like him? He was not a monster, at least in this matter. He would not bring this up unless he was sure she would be happy with him.

Never before had he been so impatient for judging to be over. If it wasn't that putting off the judging would create too much of a backlog for other days, he would have skipped it altogether. Knowing what he had to look forward to gave him the fortitude to endure the drain of the judging. Her presence helped him in another way as well. For the first time he knew what it was to love someone. The onslaught of mortal emotion was not as overwhelming, because he had experienced more of it himself.

The requisite hours passed. He felt hollow, as if he had run a marathon without eating for three day beforehand. He was impatient to get going, but waited a few minutes to gather his strength. Persephone sat in his lap for their by-now routine cuddle. It was the second-favorite part of his day. He loved holding her, feeling as though she cared for him. Her warmth soaked into his despondent body. The only thing better than this was at night, in his study. She would fall asleep in his arms, and he could hold her without the fear of being discovered. He could pretend for a few minutes that they were a couple.

Energy returned to his limbs. The longer he sat here, the more invigorated he felt. On the other hand, Persephone's body was growing heavier. The exhaustion of the week was catching up to her, and she was drifting off in the middle of the day. He was tempted to let her rest. She obviously needed it. But she could also rest after he carried out his plans for the day. Maybe it was better to ask what she wanted to do.

"Persephone," he whispered, rubbing her arm. She stirred sleepily.

"Lady Persephone," he repeated, a little louder. He remembered the formality that time. She blinked open her eyes slowly, then realized what she'd done.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, trying to get up. "I'm so sorry!"

He wasn't. His reaction was instinctive and unavoidable. He tightened his hold on her, refusing to let go. This was the one day a week he allowed himself to act on his desires toward her. He was not about to release her so soon. After a moment she reclined against him, her head bowed. He placed his fingers under her chin to lift it. Her face rose to his as if expecting a kiss. He nearly obliged her. He drew in a breath of narcissus and rain; a tingle of pleasure when down his spine.

"It's my day off," he said, wondering if she heard how ragged his voice was. "I wanted to take you riding with me, but you seem tired. Would you prefer to rest?"

She didn't hesitate to answer, "No, I'd rather be with you. Will we ride Phlegethon again?"

He smiled in mischief. "You'll see. Are you hungry? We can eat here, but I thought it would be nice to eat outside for once."

"Like a picnic?" she asked hopefully. Despite the way she'd fallen asleep in his lap, she was now eager to begin.

"Something like that," he agreed with feigned casualness. His heart was racing, one part nerves that she would refuse, and one part excitement that she would accept. Her hand was resting innocently on his chest. She must have felt his pulse jump, because her fingers caressed the area over his heart.

"That sounds wonderful," she smiled. He wanted to shout with joy. He stood, but kept his arm around her waist to hold her close. She nestled against him contentedly. He had missed this all week long. How was he supposed to go back to being circumspect when this day was over?


	18. A Sunny Ride

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! For those following both stories, I completed my Labyrinth story yesterday, so this will be the only one I'm working on currently. However, I am looking for Beta readers for my next Labyrinth story, and possibly stories in other fandoms as they catch my interest. If you're interested, drop me a PM!**

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Chapter 18: A Sunny Ride

Hades felt bad for making Persephone wait for lunch, so they stopped by the kitchen on their way out. His shadow lifted out two rolls hot from the oven. The cook, the ghost of a large woman, rounded furiously at the theft. She blanched when she realized who the thief was. She bowed deeply to Hades, and then bowed again, just as deep, to Persephone.

"Maripose," Persephone acknowledged the cook, while Hades blinked in surprise. When had she met the cook? Beaming, the ghost pressed two more rolls on them. They were of course made from food brought down from the mortal world, as to be safe for Persephone. He got the sense that the cook was pleased to have real food to work with again. He still remembered what had caused her to be sentenced to Tartarus. She was thirty-eight years into her century-long service. As a young woman, she had once been captured by a band of brigands. To escape from them, she poisoned their soup. The entire camp—twenty-three men—died from her concoction. Once she was free, she was so consumed with guilt that she dedicated her life—and now her death—to serving food to others. It was as if she was using the wholesome meals she gave out now to erase the fatal ones. He nodded to her as they walked away.

The rolls were good. They had bits of meat baked into them, with dried fruit on top and drizzled with honey-butter. He ate one and pressed his second on Persephone after she ate her two.

"You need to eat more," he said, worrying about her health again. She accepted the roll and nibbled on it, though clearly she wasn't very hungry after eating her rolls. He got a visceral pleasure at watching her consume food that he had given her. Most of the roll went to Cerberus when they went to the kennel to let him out. The hound was ecstatic to see Persephone again. She laughed and petted his heads. She was just as happy to see him as well. Perhaps it was a small thing, but Hades was glad his dog approved of her.

Their next destination was the stables. Phlegethon was tethered outside her stall, but not yet tacked up to be ridden. Persephone automatically walked toward the big mare. Hades stopped her.

"I thought today you might like to pick out your own mount to ride," he revealed.

Her eyes went wide. "I don't know how to ride," she reminded him.

"I'll teach you," he assured her. "Now, which one would you like? All of the mounts in here are available."

She gave him an incredulous look, but began to walk the stalls. She paused at each one, taking a moment to pet the heads that came out to greet her. He stood back and watched. In his mind he went over the strengths and weakness of all the horses that she stopped at. He would have liked to steer her to one of the steadier, calmer mounts. Something in him rebelled at the idea. She was not a child that had to be guided from lesson to lesson. He would not have been half so attracted to her if she wasn't able to think for herself and make her own decisions. Nor was she foolhardily independent, making rash choices without heeding the consequences. She made a complete round of the stables, and came back to one particular. The golden head with a black mane snuffled at her. She looked to Hades for advice.

"This one?" she asked.

He eyed the buckskin. The horse was very tall, nearly matching Phlegethon's height, though only half so broad. Hades knew him to be a lively but even-tempered mount. He could have easily been too much for Persephone, but the stallion retained the good manners he'd had as a gelding in life. Hades nodded in approval.

"A fine choice," he praised warmly.

She flushed with pride, standing by her new horse. He had the golden body of a palomino, but with the black mane, tail and legs of a bay. Hades showed her how to put a halter on the horse, and brought out a bucket of grooming supplies. She wasn't afraid of the hard work associated with having a horse, he noted fondly. As a goddess she could have easily turned her nose up at the menial chores of picking hooves and currying dirt from the coat. Most of the time the stable hands would take care of those chores for her, but he wanted her to have a basic understanding of general horse care. She was eager to learn. Her focus was intense, as if she was determined to memorize everything correctly the first time she saw it. He was reminded of a child who feared being beaten if they got their lessons wrong. Surely she knew there were no penalties here?

"What are you going to call him?" he asked as he brought the tack over for her. Her dress was littered with fine golden horse hair, but her eyes shown with excitement. She hadn't been this happy since her first days here. Doing this was the right thing to cheer her up. Her joy was infectious, and caused a warm feeling in his heart.

"I think I'll call him… Sunny," she mused. Instantly his pleasure was wiped away. She couldn't have hurt him worse if she drove a knife in his chest and twisted the blade. How wrong he had been. He thought he could make her happy. But it wasn't enough for her. She still missed the sunlight. She would never be happy here.

"A good name," he choked out. She turned to look at him, but he moved away so she wouldn't see his stricken expression. He'd hoped the gift of the horse and riding lessons would help her find something to like down here. Instead, she named her horse after the one thing he could never give her. Was he only keeping her as a prisoner here? Did she think of him as her jailor?

"Hades?" she asked uncertainly. He hunched his shoulders against more pain. It was a lie, he told himself. She didn't really think of him in such a way that would allow her to use his name like that. Sure enough, she corrected herself immediately.

"Lord Hades? Is something wrong?"

He heard her move behind him. Without warning he spun and caught her in a fierce hug. She gasped in surprise, but didn't struggle.

"Just fine," he said hoarsely. His hopes and dreams of a throne besides his, a queen to hold in his heart, burnt in the flames of Tartarus. If this would be the last time he would have her before he shut his heart away forever, he would make the most of it.

"Are you ready for your lessons?" he asked briskly. He taught her how to saddle and bridle Sunny. He wanted to spit in anger every time he heard the horse's name. They led their mounts out of the stables in into a fenced arena where they could work without distraction. Sunny was too tall for Persephone to mount unassisted. He showed her how to use the mounting block, and how to step-up from his cupped hands. He couldn't meet her eyes, still reeling from the pain of losing a future with her. It was all he could do to pretend nothing was wrong. He wasn't entirely successful. She gave him odd looks during his instruction, clearly wondering about his mood change. He did not enlighten her.

Once she was settled on Sunny's back, she became nervous. It was a lot different now that he wasn't going to be sitting behind her and holding onto her. At first he led her around on the ground, letting her get used to the motion without worrying about anything else. As she grew more comfortable, he turned the reigns over to her. Sunny's ears flicked back, reading her inexperience and considering whether or not to take advantage of it. Hade's shadow stretched on the ground toward the horse in warning. Sunny decided it was much better not to contest his new rider. Hades directed Persephone to ride Sunny in a series of easy patterns to get used to guiding her horse. Despite the ache in his heart, he loved the way she grinned as her confidence grew.

Finally, they were ready to go. He slung a pair of heavy saddlebags over Phlegethon's withers. The big mare didn't so much as twitch a muscle. He opened the arena gate for Persephone and Sunny to ride out. She became nervous again at the thought of riding in the open.

"We aren't going fast today," he reassured her. "Sunny will follow Phlegethon, probably without being told. This is just a simple ride out to the fields."

"Okay," she agreed anxiously.

However, it went exactly as he said. They rode slowly through town and reached the open fields. Cerberus was bored of their slow pace, but knew better than to antagonize the horses this week. He began ranging out, coming back every few minutes to check on them. Hades kept an eye on Persephone, but she was doing very well for her first solo ride. He took them to same overlook where they had their first picnic a week ago. Sunny was tall enough that Persephone had to kick free of the stirrups and jump down. He made sure he was in position to catch her. Sure enough, her legs buckled when she landed. She fell hard against him. He set her on her feet, but instead of letting go of him, she held on tighter.

"Thank you," she murmured, rubbing her cheek on his chest. A welter of confused emotion flooded through him. What was she doing? It felt really nice, and reminded him why he loved her. She was so accepting of him, as a person. And yet she named her horse after the only thing that didn't exist down here. He didn't know whether she was attracted to him as a man, as she seemed to be now, or if she was merely placating him while she was in his power. He held her tenderly, savoring the feel of her in his arms. If only he could always have her like this, knowing she was protected and loved.

Eventually he pulled back, ready to set the rest of his plan in motion. The overlook was barren, but with an effort of will he connected to the Underworld and grew lush strands of grass. The horses began to crop at it. He loosened the saddles and slipped the bits from their mouths. He removed the heavy saddlebags from Phlegethon's back and began taking out the accoutrements of a picnic. Persephone hummed in pleasure and helped him. It seemed to him that she passed by closer than was necessary, often brushing against him. It gladdened his heart at this faint sign of encouragement.

When it was done, he took a seat on the blanket. He left room for her on the other side of the blanket. As much as he wanted her close, he didn't want her to feel obligated. She had no qualms about moving things to her liking. She shifted several items so she could sit next to him. His chest suffused with joy. She didn't only sit next to him; she landed almost in his lap. Their hips pressed together so he had to make room for her. She leaned into him until he put his arm around her. When he looked down at her in astonishment, she smiled shyly at him. She was bold yet uncertain at the same time. He gave her a little squeeze, silently reassuring her. Cerberus came back at the moment and sprawled on the little room left on the blanket.

They ate lunch like that, Hades and Persephone holding each other, Cerberus' heads alternately snoring, begging for food, or looking off into the distance. Despite the rocky start of their picnic, it had a very cozy atmosphere. Afterward, Hades laid down in satisfaction. Instead of the warmth of the sun on his face, he felt the comforting pulse of the Underworld at his back. Persephone stretched out beside him. She tucked herself into his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

He struggled not to react to her. Their position felt extremely intimate. For the first time they were laying together. While being out on a picnic blanket was a far cry from taking her in his bed, it was still a step further than they had gone before. Did this mean she was amendable to his advances? What about Sunny's name? Persephone didn't seem to think anything was different about laying with him, so he tried to remain casual.

It got a lot harder when she sighed and said, "It's beautiful up here. I never want to leave." Then she kissed his cheek. Liquid heat spread from her touch. His body shuddered with it, wanting more. He only had to turn his head, and the lips on his cheek would be on his mouth instead. He wanted it so much. His heart pounded in his chest. His breathing turned ragged. All he could think about was her scent, her soft skin. If he moved even a fraction, his control would shatter. So he didn't move.

After a while it became easier to resist temptation. It wasn't that the mood passed, for he still desired her just as much. But he was in control of his desire. He never wanted to be in a situation where his lust overcame his sense, and he forced himself on her. The thought of her struggling against him as she must have struggled against the other gods sent icy water down his spine. It helped too that Persephone wasn't consciously trying to seduce him. He didn't know if he could have held out against that. But her innocent gesture was just that: innocent.

After she spoke, she grew quiet and still. A short time later, she fell asleep. The hot desire that might have pushed him into further action turned instead into molten yearning. He coiled his body carefully around hers, keeping her warm and protected. All three of Cerberus' heads were snoring now. At least it was a series of low murmurs instead of loud snorting. The horses were standing head to tail, lazily dozing.

It was extremely peaceful on the overlook. There were no pressing duties to attend to, nothing to pull him from the moment. He was holding his goddess, with his dog and their horses nearby. The Underworld practically hummed in contentment at his feeling of bliss. Nearly everything he cared about was right here, within arm's reach. Hecate and Thanatos were his friends, but they were also self-sufficient. They didn't need him for anything, unlike the ones around him now. There was something indescribably sublime about this moment. Like Persephone said: he didn't want it to end.

He caught himself yawning a few times. He tried to stay awake, not wanting to miss a second of this feeling. But there was no reason to keep alert. Nothing could possibly sneak up on him here, in the height of his power. Even if it did, there was one Hellhound and two Nightmares to contend with, not to mention his own considerable abilities in his kingdomm. Giving up on remaining awake, he placed his head next to Persephone's, and soon joined her in slumber.

He was woken a time later by a soft caress on his face. He opened his eyes to see Persephone staring at him. Her face was creased in concentration. She traced her fingers lightly over his skin, barely touching him. It was as if she was trying to memorize him, both by sight and feel. Her contact was both soothing and innervating. It felt wonderful. Her fingers feathered over his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. She brushed the scar that no longer ached, and his chin. His breath caught when she ran the tips of her fingers over his lips. That was when she realized he was awake. Her eyes flew to his, her cheeks blushing at being caught. How long had she been doing that before he stirred? She withdrew her fingers, making him wish he'd kept silent.

"Hi," she said softly, a little bashful.

"Hi," he rumbled back. His voice was husky from sleep. He became aware of how they were laying. They were facing each other, his arms around her waist. Their legs were touching, hinting at intimacies he knew he hadn't taken. It was a very compromising position. He would have worried about making Persephone feel vulnerable, but she wasn't trying to get away from him. It had been her touch that woke him. That wasn't the touch of someone who was protesting her location. A slow smile tugged at his lips. If he didn't think it ungentlemanly, he would have let it form. It felt very crude, however, the gloat at the evidence of a lady's affections. And just because she was with him now didn't mean she preferred him above all others.

He looked around. Cerberus noticed his movement and sat up, wagging his tail eagerly. The horses had finished the grass and were getting restless. He felt through the Underworld that several hours had passed. It was time to go back. He sighed and closed his eyes. Persephone touched his cheek once, a wordless question of concern. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"I think our day here is nearly done," he said, keeping his voice even. He was gratified by the flash of disappointment in her eyes. He because he couldn't resist, he reached out and stroked her soft cheek. She didn't pull away from him. He stood before he could be tempted into more. He stretched, holding the pose a moment longer when he noticed her watching him.

"Are you ready?" he asked, reaching a hand down to her. She started to rise, but gave an exclamation of pain and fell back. She grimaced, rubbing her legs.

"Sore muscles?" he asked in sympathy.

"Yeah, but I'll get up," she said in determination. He admired her grit, but he had a better solution. He stooped down and picked her up.

"No need," he said cheekily.

She squeaked in shock, pushing against him. For a moment he saw something in her gaze that he didn't like: fear. He stiffened in hurt. Was she afraid of him? What had he done to trigger her fear? He'd picked her up before and she never reacted like that. After a moment she stopped struggling and leaned into him. It assuaged a lot of the heartache he'd felt. So it wasn't _him_ she was afraid of, but something about their situation. Because of her sore muscles? Because she couldn't rise immediately? It brought to mind the intent way she'd listened to him in the stables, as if she had been afraid to get anything wrong. The thought was deeply disturbing. Who had taught her to associate learning with pain? He didn't have any answers, so he set it aside to think about later.

He held her for a few minutes, trying to reassure both of them that there was no pain or fear here. After a while she stirred.

"What about the picnic stuff?" she asked reluctantly.

"I'll get it," he declared. He wasn't letting her go any time soon. He reached out with his shadow and took the corners of the blanket. His shadow rolled it into a ball, wrapping all the accessories of their picnic inside the blanket. His shadow grew and spread over the bundle, becoming thick and impenetrably black. Nothing could be seen under it. And then his shadow faded back to normal, loosely copying his shape. The picnic bundle was gone.

Persephone stared in shock. "What happened to it?" she asked uncertainly.

He felt a touch of unease at the base of his spine. He didn't often use his shadow so overtly. It tended to disturb others because of how unnatural it was. The last thing he wanted was for Persephone to begin to fear his shadow.

He shrugged. "I sent it back," he admitted.

"That must be useful," she said thoughtfully.

He began to relax. It seemed he had underestimated her again.

"Would you like to ride with me on Phlegethon?" he asked. Privately, he wasn't sure she was able to ride by herself if she was already sore from her earlier efforts.

Her eyes glinted. "Can we go fast?"

He grinned.

The ride back went faster than he wanted. Sunny followed them without a tether. Even if he did begin to stray, Cerberus would have herded him back into line. This time Hades gave Phlegethon her head to run as fast as she could. Sunny still showed them his heels. Both horses had long legs built for speed, but Phlegethon had the heavier body and was doubly laden. Persephone enjoyed the wild ride through the fields. His heart sang with her laughter. After their nap on the overlook, they barely made it back in time to change for dinner.

Perhaps because of the extra rest, Persephone was actually lively during the meal. She kept shooting him secretive glances, which he returned in kind. It was like they were reliving their time together on the overlook. He smiled fondly at the new memories. When they retreated to his study afterwards, she was still awake. They didn't spend much time reading, but talking late into the night. His worry about her health and happiness began to fade. She sounded like her old self again. Maybe she just needed some extra rest once in a while.

Overall, he had to say that the day was fairly successful. Persephone had enjoyed herself. Hopefully he had given her new reasons to want to stay. There was still some confusion over the meaning behind Sunny's name, and her odd reaction when he picked her up. It felt like too delicate a subject to mention, so he kept quiet for now. He would watch her for further clues on both issues. When she finally fell asleep, leaning on him on the couch, his love for her only grew deeper. If they always got on so well, could it be very long until he called her his queen?


	19. Blood is Spilt

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I'm sorry I missed an update last week. I got caught up in another writing project. The muse grabbed me by the back on the neck and demanded I write, NOW! I ended up churning out 24k words in three days, but the story is complete. It's another fanfic, I'll probably end up posting it here after a round of edits. So thanks for your concern, and I'll be back on my regular posting schedule for this story.  
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**Chapter 19: Blood is Spilt**

Persephone felt like she'd found a rhythm in the Underworld. After breakfast was housework and witchcraft with Lady Hecate. Then was judging and lunch with Lord Hades. Afternoon was inspections and self-defense with Lord Thanatos. Next was stories with Charon. Dinner was after that, and following dinner was spending time with Lord Hades in his study. It was exhausting, hard work, but she loved it. Self-defense with Lord Thanatos was her least favorite part of the day. She seemed to gather a collection of bruises with nothing to show for it. Her favorite time was any moment she could spend with Lord Hades.

Since giving her Sunny, they usually took a short ride after lunch. Lord Hades gave her instructions in the arena, or they took a slow ride through town. Sunny was forgiving of her mistakes as a novice rider. Lord Hades was a very different teacher than Lady Hecate or Lord Thanatos. He was far gentler in his corrections, and made allowances for her errors. He never chastised her for getting things wrong, only showed her how to do it better. When he praised her, she flushed in pleasure because she knew he meant it. She could relax during his lessons like she never could with Lord Thanatos and Lady Hecate.

She had to admit, Lord Hades was the one piece of her life here that she had a hard time figuring out. Just when she thought she knew where she stood with him, he did something to change her mind. He acted differently toward her based on whether they were alone or in public. On his days off, he spent every available moment with her. They went riding and had picnics. He was always touching her, holding her hand, and letting her lean against him. He was physically affectionate toward her on those days like he wasn't during the rest of the week. But they didn't kiss, and nor did he touch her anywhere inappropriate. He was in all ways a gentleman. Still, she enjoyed it when he was freer with his touch, and savored it when she could.

During the week, he treated her quite differently. It wasn't that he treated her badly when they were in public. He was always faultlessly polite. But there was an impenetrable reserve about him when he was in front of others. She learned to wait until they were alone if she wanted to talk with the real Lord Hades. Otherwise he presented a certain façade that she couldn't see through. At least, she hoped it was a façade. Her heart would break if his real mask was the one he wore on his days off.

When they were alone, she felt this incredible hope for the future. When they were before others, she barely felt like an acquaintance to him. It confused her deeply. It made her feel there was something wrong with her. Was he ashamed to be seen with her? He didn't want anyone to know of their maybe-relationship, and so he pretended it didn't exist? Of course, for all she knew, it didn't, and it was all in her head. His mixed signals left her bewildered.

There could be another explanation for his behavior. Maybe he was bashful. Everything she learned of him through her work with Lady Hecate, Lord Thanatos, and Charon's stories pointed to a strong man who sacrificed for others. Nowhere could she find any kind of selfishness. He worked alone, and he took the difficult road no one else would travel. Perhaps he was unused to showing his feelings when he was always required to be the strong one. He was unused to having someone that would support him.

She could live with that. It was an endearing quality. It would be her honor to show him that he could trust her with his heart. There were ways to work around his bashfulness, if only she was secure in his affections. As it was now, she didn't know if the pull toward each other was mutual, or if she had made it all up. If he wasn't shy, if he was ashamed of her, then she'd been deeply deceived by his character. Her chest felt hollow at the mere thought of it. Nothing made sense!

One of the things she missed about the mortal world was having confidants. There had always been someone to talk to, whether it was the nymphs, Athena, Artemis, or Demeter. In this case she thought the advice from nymphs would have been rather suspect. She didn't know what it would be like discussing her relationship issues with two virgin goddesses. She certainly would not have dared to mention Lord Hades' name. But her mother… Demeter would have listened to her troubles. It still would have been too frightening to say _who_ exactly she was having these feelings for.

She missed her mother. She didn't lack for company in the Underworld, but none of them could make up for Demeter's presence. If Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos didn't exactly invite her to sit down and chat with them, Lord Hades did. Still, she could hardly discuss her emotions with the very man who had caused them!

Persephone didn't like to say it in case Lord Hades thought she didn't like it in his realm, but she wished she could see Demeter. It would have been a relief to know that her mother was alright. She longed to talk with her mother, to know her thoughts on Persephone's confusing situation. Would Demeter encourage her budding romance, or would she have cautioned her daughter from committing herself to the dark god?

She didn't have the courage to talk to Lord Hades about what she felt for him. If he happened to feel the same as her, it would be an awesome relief. If not, if he didn't consider her romantically at all… At best she would be deeply embarrassed. Things between her and Lord Hades would become awkward and strained. At worst, she would open herself to shame and scorn. _He_ was too honorable to cast her aside without protection, but she dreaded facing what Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos might do to her. For some reason she felt that Charon was the least likely to turn against her for daring to presume a relationship with their lord. The situation might become so intolerable, she would have no choice but to leave the Underworld.

Right now, Lord Hades was a very good friend, even if he wasn't a suitor like she hoped for. It wasn't worth risking their friendship to lay her questions to rest. It was strange to remember that she had only been here a handful of days. Either things would work out in time, or they wouldn't. She would get farther by being patient.

During her second week in the Underworld, she gained a new confidant in the unexpected form of Charon. It was really because of Lord Thanatos. During their self-defense lessons—which were more like getting-thrown-to-the-ground lessons—she attempted to evade Lord Thanatos, only to trip and fall anyway. She didn't have time to brace herself. Her chin struck the ground hard, with a bright flash of impact. Her neck whipped back, and she felt something crack at the base of her skull. She was dazed for several seconds. Lights swirled in her vision; her body felt oddly distant.

She heard Lord Thanatos walking toward her, and in panic forced herself to her feet. Drops of dark fluid splattered on the ground and her dress. She swayed dangerously, still not collected from her fall. She faced Lord Thanatos, trying to assume a defensive position, but he recoiled from her.

"Are you alright?" he asked sharply.

His words were nonsensical. Her eyes didn't want to focus properly. The back of her skull ached, even though she'd landed on her chin. She shook her head to clear it, and warm liquid splashed around her. She raised her hand to the trickle on her chin. Her fingers came away damp and red. Blood. Her blood. She was bleeding. She took a few seconds to decide if she was going to freak out or not. Perhaps the old Persephone might have done so, before she became the guest of the lord of the Underworld and fell in love with him. In this field, however, her entire focus was on Lord Thanatos. Every exchange with him was a life and death struggle. Her bleeding chin was gruesome, but not life threatening: it was relevant. She flicked the blood from her hands, then raised them in a guard position.

"I'm ready, let's go," she said, balancing lightly on her feet.

Lord Thanatos hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want a moment to stop the bleeding?"

She shrugged. "No, I'm good. Keep going."

And so the lesson continued. At first he was reluctant to close with her, and more gentle when he did. It didn't take him long to get over it. Soon she was being hurled to the ground with just as much force as before. By the end of the lesson, they were both liberally splattered with her blood. When she was knocked off her feet for the last time, he brought her to the palace so she could change out of her gory clothes. She had a bit of a headache, and the base of her skull was still very tender. Once again, she pushed those things to the back of her mind as unimportant. Now that the worst of the day was over, she only had Charon's stories, dinner, and time with Lord Hades to worry about. Nothing short of major dismemberment would keep her from that.

She took the time to press a cold, damp cloth to her chin. The coolness felt good, and it helped to stanch the bleeding. It was still seeping slightly, so she brought a handkerchief with her to staunch the flow. She deliberately avoided looking at herself in the mirror. Her looks were not spectacular to begin with, and she was sure the gash in her chin did not improve them at all. She met with Lord Thanatos one last time, and he brought her to Charon's river.

When the ferryman saw her, he jumped from his boat.

"What the Tartarus did you do to her?" he shouted at Lord Thanatos, while trying to get a look at her chin. She covered it self-consciously. Her cheeks were flaming red. Charon's vehemence startled her.

Lord Thanatos crossed his arms and affected a bored tone. "Nothing untoward occurred," he said. "It's all in the name of training."

Charon rounded on him. "Is that all? And what do you imagine Hades will say to that? Is it also in the name of training to break a few bones? Maybe lose a couple fingers?"

Lord Thanatos actually blanched slightly. "Of course not," he snapped, but his expression was worried. She had never seen Charon so worked up, and she was beginning to feel sorry for Lord Thanatos. She stepped between them, trying to direct the attention back to herself.

"It was just an accident," she said earnestly. "I'm alright, really."

Charon glanced at her, then glared at Lord Thanatos. "If she comes to me injured again, I _will_ tell Hades," he warned, and then shepherded Persephone to his boat. She sat down as he shoved off with more force than necessary. They reached the middle of the river, nothing but fog around them, when Charon abruptly shipped the bargepole in the boat. They drifted aimlessly on the current.

He knelt in front of her, his eyes gentle. "Persephone," he asked softly, "Are you alright?"

She nodded uncomfortably. Charon had always been a friend, but with the way he reacted to Lord Thanatos just now, and the way he was looking at her, she feared he too might have developed feelings for her. It was uncomfortable enough when Lord Thanatos had done it—though she was beginning to doubt he had ever been serious in his attentions, as he had been sharply correct since that time—but Charon was someone she didn't want to hurt.

"Are you sure?" he insisted. He reached out and covered her hands with his. "You don't have to be strong for me. I know what Hecate and Thanatos are doing to you. They're testing your limits, trying to see if you'll quit when it gets hard down here. But they're trying so hard, they might _actually_ break you before they get through. They're so busy making sure that you're fit for Hades that they don't realize you need encouragement too. I want you to know that I'm not like that. I'm on your side. I know you're strong, and that you're not here seeking your own gain. I don't want you to leave. I think you're good for this kingdom, and good for Hades too. You're a good friend, like a sister to me. Someday I hope I might even call you my queen."

His steady words broke her down more surely than pain and sharp tongues could have. He spoke nothing but the truth, and it pierced her heart. Though it had been alluded to, this was the first time someone actually stated that she could be with Lord Hades. Hearing that Charon thought of her as a sister was a great relief as well. She began to cry softly. She hadn't realized how much pressure had been placed on her until he pointed it out. Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos _did_ push her to the breaking point, repeatedly. More than once she had wondered if it was even worth it. Getting to spend time with Lord Hades was the only reason she kept at it as long as she had. It had seemed to her that no one else wanted her here, with as much as they pushed at her. In a way, she felt it was her own fault: hadn't she asked to learn about the Underworld? She had no one to blame but herself that she was worked to exhaustion every day.

Charon sat next to her and put his arms around her. Unlike with Lord Hades, it felt like a purely platonic gesture. She curled into him and wept her heartbreak.

"I know you feel like you have to prove yourself," he said, "but you don't. You are a goddess, and the guest of our lord. Hades has already chosen you, even if he doesn't realize it. That makes you far more worthy than you could ever prove by your actions. You should stand up for yourself more. I promise Thanatos and Hecate can only respect you for it. They will see that you're not giving up, and maybe they won't put so much on you."

Would they respect her? Or would they see it as a sign of weakness, that she was caving at last? She made no reply.

Charon sighed and hugged her. "I'm on your side," he reminded her. "If you need anything or you just want to talk, I'm here for you. I won't hesitate to go to Hades if things get too bad for you."

"Please, don't," she begged him. "I don't want to be a trouble to anyone."

"You're not!" he said fiercely. "You don't deserve to be treated like that. You need someone who will be your friend here. That's me, and believe me, if what I suspect is true, Hades will be your best defender yet. I don't doubt you'll see it at dinner tonight."

No more was said at the time. Charon held her until she stopped crying, and then got up and resumed poling them across the river. His words struck her deeply, and she had much to think about.

By the time she went to dinner that night, her chin had finally stopped bleeding. She steeled herself, and looked into the mirror. Her chin was swollen and discolored around the cut. It was very sore to the touch. She found herself wishing she could wear a mask or something to hide her face. It was mortifying to go out looking like this. She didn't normally think of herself as a vain creature, but tonight she felt self-conscious. Her only consolation what that it looked worse than it felt. She wondered what Lord Hades would think of her now. He wasn't the kind of man to be turned away by appearances, but at the same time she wanted to look nice for him. Well, there was nothing for it but to go to dinner as she was.

Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos were already in attendance in the parlor. She tried to imagine herself standing up to them, and shuddered. It wasn't in her to be defiant like that. There was a bit of a stir when she walked in. Lord Thanatos had already seen her chin, of course, but Lady Hecate did a double-take.

"What happened?" the older goddess asked.

"Training accident," Lord Thanatos said before Persephone could explain.

"I tripped and fell," she corrected nervously.

Lady Hecate gave him an incredulous look. "You let that happen?"

He rolled his eyes. "Save the lecture. I already got it from Charon."

Persephone found the conversation between them fascinating. It was like what Charon had said to Lord Thanatos. Everyone expected Lord Hades to react to her injury. What was it about her that was stirring the waters?

"It's not Charon you have to worry about," Lady Hecate muttered pointedly. She turned back to Persephone. Her voice turned surprisingly gentle. "Lady Persephone, maybe you should let me make you a —"

Lord Hades chose that moment to walk in. He glanced up at her and froze. In the next instant he'd bounded across the room and stood an inch from her.

"Who hurt you?" he demanded. Instead of shouting, his voice had gotten very quiet. It seemed more dangerous that way. His shadow had grown into something huge with more spikes and talons than she could count. After listening to Charon's stories—distilled as they were—she suspected it was something from the titan war.

"N-no one," she stammered, trying not to recoil from him. She didn't dare look at Lord Thanatos, for any glance in his direction might set Lord Hades off on him. "It was an accident, I tripped and fell. That's all."

"Is it?" he asked sharply, leaning down to her. His expression was livid. "No one touched you, no one caused you to be hurt?"

She gulped, her heart racing. "No," she said firmly. It wasn't really a lie; Lord Thanatos hadn't meant for her to fall during their lesson. Lord Hades watched her with bright silver eyes, silently demanding the truth. She became nervous under his scrutiny.

"I'm fine, is dinner ready?" she asked, her voice squeaking. She turned to escape. Lord Hades' arm suddenly shot out and blocked her way. She hadn't realized she'd backed up to the wall until she found herself pinned there. He wasn't touching her, but he loomed over her, effectively holding her in place. His arms were braced against the wall on either side of her. His shadow had risen to form a solid black wall between them and the rest of the room. All sight and sound from outside was blocked. They were wrapped in a cocoon of his shadow, but somehow it wasn't dark.

Her entire attention was riveted on Lord Hades. His eyes were wild, his breathing ragged. He trembled, barely hanging onto his control. It was because of her, she realized with awe. Seeing her hurt had driven him to this extreme. This was what Charon had tried to warn her of. She couldn't move away from Lord Hades. Any attempt to flee would set him off. So she did the only thing she could. She stepped into him.

She put her arms loosely around his waist. His arms fell around her in a surprisingly gentle hold. His strength was manifest in the firm way he tucked her against him. He could have easily crushed her, and yet his embrace was soothing. He made a sound deep in his throat, then pressed his face to her hair and inhaled deeply. She could feel him shudder. She squeezed him as hard as she could, and only then did he begin to relax.

"Are you alright?" he asked anxiously. "Did someone hurt you?"

"Truly, I'm fine," she insisted, humbled by his deep concern for her. "No one did this, it was only an accident." No wonder Lord Thanatos had blanched when Charon threatened to tell Lord Hades. This was only a minor cut on her chin; who knew what he would have done if it had been more serious. She was glad she'd been hiding the bruises from him. At first it had been out of a sense of shame that she couldn't defend herself. Now she knew that Lord Hades might very well tear Lord Thanatos apart if he saw them!

Lord Hades wasn't usually this demonstrative when they were in public. Then again, wrapped in his shadow as they were, they might as well have been someplace private. She took advantage of this unlooked-for solitude and placed her hand on his cheek. It wasn't enough for her. She ran her fingers through his hair as she rarely allowed herself, enjoying the silkiness of his blue curls. He sighed and leaned on her. The vibrating tension had left him, and now they were simply two people enjoying each other. She was surrounded by his age-and-shadow scent; to her, it meant comfort and protection.

"I don't like to see you hurt," he whispered brokenly. Warmth spread from her chest. Had anyone beside her mother cared so much for her before?

"I wouldn't want to see you hurt either," she confessed. He hugged her tighter. She rubbed her cheek on his shirt, careful not to bump her chin. She had all the proof she needed that he didn't care what she looked like.

They stayed together for several minutes, simply savoring their closeness. Lord Hades lifted his head slightly.

"Hecate," he called out sternly. His voice rumbled, telling Persephone that he hadn't completely lost that hard edge. She pressed against him in an attempt to sooth him.

"Yes, my lord," Lady Hecate responded promptly.

Persephone tensed, realizing that his shadow had retreated and they were exposed. What must Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos think of her, clinging to their lord this way? Would believe she was taking advantage of his concern to latch onto him like this? She had been the one to move toward him first, after all. It had felt like the right thing to do at the time, but now she doubted her actions. She leaned the tiniest bit away from Lord Hades. His arms only pulled her more firmly against him.

"Make a poultice for Lady Persephone," he said sharply.

"Right away, my lord," she agreed with alacrity. "I have a salve ready-made for injuries."

"Bring it," he ordered curtly.

"Yes, my lord." Lady Hecate left.

Persephone noticed that Lady Hecate had been far more formal in her address of him than was usual. For the most part the three of them—four if she counted Charon—spoke to each other like friends. But when Lord Hades was tense and upset, it was clear who the master was. Lady Hecate and the others reverted to formality as if to appease the dark god.

A short time later the goddess of witchcraft returned. She approached them with a caution that would have been amusing if not for Lord Hades' reaction to her. He stiffened and shifted so his back was to her. It placed his bulk directly between her and Lady Hecate, Persephone realized. Was he really defending her against his own people? The older goddess paused, then stepped forward again. Lord Hades hunched his shoulders and gave a quiet growl. His shadow gathered at his feet in preparation to spring.

"Hades!" Persephone hissed in shock. She grabbed his arm and tried to give him a little shake. It was like trying to push against the palace walls. "You asked her to come," she reminded him. "Why are you treating her like that?" Her heart was beating faster than normal. It wasn't fear for herself, but for Lady Hecate. Lord Hades wasn't himself at the moment, too overwrought to be sensible. She prayed he'd listen to her.

He turned hot, brilliant silver eyes on her. She gulped, only now realizing she'd taken liberties with his name. "My lord," she whispered, quickly lowering her gaze. What had she been _thinking_? This was the king of the Underworld! He was hardly going to take admonishment from her! He raised his hand and brushed his fingers along her check. His touch was far too gentle considering the temper he was barely holding on to. He tilted her head back to meet her eyes again.

"Don't hide from me," he said softly. It was less of a command than a plea. She looked up shyly at him. Despite his reaction to Lady Hecate, she still trusted him implicitly.

"Hecate," he called, still holding Persephone's gaze.

"My lord," she answered.

Lord Hades took a deep breath, and then slowly turned around to face her. He was still holding Persephone, so she came with him. Lady Hecate appeared wary but not surprised by Lord Hades' temper. She gave Persephone a nod of respect, even though Persephone felt she hadn't done anything.

"Help her," Lord Hades spoke harshly. It was incredibly difficult for him to allow her to be exposed, even to his closest advisors. She reached up and squeezed his hand for reassurance. She didn't know if it helped, but he allowed Lady Hecate to approach this time. She turned in his arms to face the other goddess. His grip on her was as snug as if he was trying to become one with her. She was aware of the dark god behind her, this side of his jaw brushing her hair. She had no doubt if anything happened, he could whisk her away in an instant. It was laughable, really. What was going to happen here in the heart of his power?

Lady Hecate was coolly professional as she viewed Persephone's chin. "It doesn't look bad," she said, meeting Persephone's eyes. The young goddess picked up the cue.

"It isn't," she responded with confidence. "It doesn't even hurt."

Lord Hades shifted behind her as if to disagree. She leaned her weight on him.

"It doesn't," she insisted. It was only a little lie. The sensation of being held so tightly by the man she loved took away nearly all the pain. It was far too pleasant being with him to worry about a little bump on her chin.

"I have a salve that will help," Lady Hecate raised a clay jar. The salve looked like rendered animal fat that had been mixed with crushed herbs until it was a light green color. It smelled cleanly astringent. Persephone sniffed and tried to identify the herbs. She was almost she could feel Lady Hecate's magic in the salve as well. The older goddess liberally applied the salve with a gentle touch. It was cold, and at first stung her cut fiercely. Persephone tried to hide her flinch, fearing Lord Hades' reaction. He squeezed her tighter like he knew anyway. She blinked her eyes rapidly against the tears that welled up. She covered his hands with hers, seeking to distract both of them. The salve warmed to her skin after a few seconds. Lady Hecate chanted under her breath, and it began to spread blissful numb coolness into her cut. Persephone sagged in relief.

"That feels good!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, it's a lot better now."

Lord Hades peered down at her suspiciously, but she meant every word. She hoped that part of her witchcraft training would be learning how to make that salve.

"My lady," Lady Hecate inclined her head toward Persephone. For the first time the young goddess realized the elder was giving her the same level of respect as the king of the Underworld. What did that mean?

"My lord," Lady Hecate acknowledged the dark god. She met Persephone's eyes. "Try not to trip again."

Persephone understood it as both a warning and a note of thanks. She had willingly concealed Lord Thanatos' part in her injury, but Lord Hades was unlikely to accept her explanation if she were hurt again. He was perfectly willing to tear apart anything that harmed her. Given Lady Hecate's reaction, she reconsidered Charon's advice to stick up for herself. Maybe it was not as far-fetched as she'd thought.

They went into dinner a short time later. Lord Hades was unusually solicitous of her during the meal. On someone less impressive, it might have been hovering. On him, it felt like she was being watched over by a large, protective hawk. She enjoyed the attention, even as she was slightly embarrassed by it. Her cut was such a minor thing to get such a large response from him.

She felt she had a taste of what it would be like if he was actually courting her, but at the same time, she hadn't done anything to deserve this kind of treatment. She hated the thought that she was taking advantage of Lord Hades, or anyone else. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure if his concern was for a woman he cared about, or for a clumsy child that needed babysitting. She hoped for the former, but feared the latter.

After dinner, he was quick to offer her his arm, before Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos had quit the room. It was as if he no longer cared what anyone else thought of him. It was an awful thought, but it had been worth the comparatively minor injury to gain this attention from him. He led her to his study, where he not only sat down beside her on the couch, but pulled her against him and draped his shadow over her. There was something comforting in having the soft, living weight of his shadow on top of her. It was better than any blanket she could ask for.

Without being asked, he began to read to her. With her ear pressed to his ribs, his voice rumbled pleasantly in her head. She was tired, and her chin hurt a little despite Lady Hecate's salve. That was the only excuse she had for her behavior. She gave in to her feelings for him. She settled contentedly against him. Her eyes watched him, admiring his face, the small imperfection of his scar. If he happened to look down at her, he would see everything she felt in her gaze.

Later she would be grateful that he didn't look. How mortifying it would have been to be caught mooning over the lord of the Underworld! He would have thought her a besotted girl-child for certain. She closed her eyes in bliss and allow his voice to lull her asleep.

After that night, she badly needed someone to confide in. The way Lord Hades had treated her left her confused and longing. It seemed they had crossed a boundary, and yet after that time he treated her as usual. Did he feel something for her or not? It took her a few days to gather her courage to talk to Charon. When they were alone in the boat, she cleared her throat nervously.

"So, you know the other day when I bumped my chin?" she began.

Charon's face darkened. Her cut had healed very well; it was now a small scab that would fall off in a day or two without leaving a mark. Despite that, Charon still glowered at Lord Thanatos.

"Yes," he said shortly.

"You were saying how Lord Hades wouldn't like what happened?" It had been more implied, really, but she understood what he'd meant. Seeing it for herself had been an eye-opening experience. For that matter, Lady Hecate had mentioned something similar right before Lord Hades walked in.

Charon nodded.

"How did you know he would react like that?" she asked in a rush, before she got too scared to speak.

Charon gave her a keen look. "Just how did Hades react?" he asked.

She blushed slightly, but described how Lord Hades had cut her off from the room, and then tried to prevent Lady Hecate from reaching her. She didn't give all the details, like how she'd forgotten to use his title when she admonished him, or the way she discovered the best way to calm him was lean into him. It was too embarrassing to speak out loud, and too private to share freely. Those were memories she would savor on her own.

"Were you frightened?" Charon asked.

"No," she answered honestly. Maybe a stranger would have been afraid, but she knew he wouldn't hurt her. It had been far more dangerous for Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos.

A ghost of smile touched Charon's face. "Hades takes care of his own," he said in satisfaction. "Those under his care are his responsibility, and he takes it seriously when someone gets hurt."

She felt a twinge of disappointment. "Is that all I am to him? A responsibility?"

His expression turned sly. "What do you think of Hades?" he asked.

She looked down quickly, her face growing warm. Was she that obvious? "I like him," she whispered, though that was like saying the Styx was a little stream compared to how she felt about him.

"I think he cares deeply for you," Charon said. "I've never heard of him reacting so strongly to anyone else."

It was not quite the answer she had expected, but it warmed her heart all the same.


	20. Advice from the Ferryman

**A/N: Sorry I'm a day late in posting this! I had a friend come over yesterday and forgot about getting a new chapter up. I also have some bad news, I'm going to have to go down to posting every other Friday. I'm starting school next week, taking Pharmacology, which is probably going to be the hardest class in my entire major (RVT). Also, the chapters I've posted have caught up to my writing, which means I need to get more story written down before I can post it. Sorry! **

**Also, in response to a review from **dcdcdctctdtdctd **about promising a happy ending... I promise! Happy, happy ending, when we get there. It might be surprising how I plan to wrap it up, considering that my Demeter is not against Hades and Persephone being together. You'll see!**

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**Chapter 20: Advice from the Ferryman**

Over time, she began to talk to Charon about other subjects. For example, she noticed a tick in Lord Hades' face every time Sunny was mentioned. He had been excited to give her the horse, but at some point in the barn that first day, he seemed to lose a bit of enthusiasm.

"Do you like it down here?" Charon asked instead of answering her directly.

"I do," she answered freely.

"If there was no danger, would you go back to your old life?"

Would she? The question took her back. There were certain things she missed about her old life, but she was learning and doing so much more here. Being in the Underworld gave her a sense of purpose she hadn't had before. She had never considered what she would do if she wasn't in danger from the other gods. It had always been part of her stay here, and the thought of leaving made her sad. That was her answer then.

"No," she said slowly, "I don't think so."

"Do you like Hades?"

"You know I do. I've never met anyone like him."

"How does he treat you?"

"He's been a gentleman in every way. He treats me like an equal, and he's been very considerate. I couldn't ask for anything more from him. He's wonderful, really." She heard the longing in her own voice, and wondered if Charon could too. Despite their growing closeness, she still didn't know if Lord Hades thought of her as more than an inconvenient guest thrust on him by Demeter.

"It seems to me," Charon said carefully, "That you named your horse after the one thing that he can't give you down here."

She started in surprise, and then realized how it must have looked to Lord Hades. "No, that's not what I meant at all!" she exclaimed. "It's only because of Sunny's color, not because I was missing the sun. I could have easily called him Topaz, or Golden." She huddle in misery. "Do you think I should change Sunny's name?"

"Only you can answer that. You've pricked the man's pride once by choosing that name. Would you risk pricking it again by changing it?"

She shook her head. "No. But I'd like to make it clear to Lord Hades that I don't feel lacking in anything here."

Charon nodded. "I think that sounds like a good idea."

Being able to talk to Charon was a great help to her. Not only did he give her sound advice, but it was a relief to have another friend in the Underworld. It was easy to relax around him in a way that she couldn't around Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos. She wished there was something she could do for him in appreciation. Her opportunity came almost a week later, when she realized that none of Charon's stories were written down.

"If you want, I could transcribe them as you speak," she offered gladly.

Charon went silent for such a long time she feared she had offended him.

"I would dearly like to see my stories written down," he began wistfully, "But I feel obligated to tell you that Hades had forbidden that they be recorded in any way. I already risk his wrath by daring to tell them on my boat. I would not want you to be at odds with him over this."

She blinked in surprise. "Why would he do that? This is his own history."

"That is true, but there are certain disturbing elements in some of the stories, which he does not wish to remember."

"You mean like the way you haven't told me the full details of the stories?" she asked shrewdly.

He didn't bother to hide it. "Even so," he agreed.

She thought about it. He hadn't refused her offer completely. He was only warning her of the potential risks if Lord Hades found out about it. It would mean a lot to him for his stories to be written down and remembered, or he wouldn't keep telling them despite being forbidden.

"I'd still like to write them down for you," she said at last.

Charon looked relieved and apprehensive. "And what about Hades?"

"I see this as a matter between you and I," she said boldly. "It doesn't need to concern him at all." It was a lie, of course. Most of the stories were _about_ Lord Hades. He was involved whether he wanted to be or not. She wasn't stupid enough to think she could hide this from him forever. But she felt—she hoped—that he had enough tolerance to allow her this. If worse came to worse, she would take the blame for it, not Charon. She wanted to do this for her friend, and she would deal with the consequences as they came up. Until then, there was no sense in borrowing trouble. Charon gave her a long look, then agreed to it.

The next day she brought a quill, ink, and a scroll to Charon's boat. He started from the beginning of Lord Hades' part in the histories—and this time, he told her the truth. She was hard-put to hide her reaction to the horrific things he was telling her. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought he was embellishing the tales in order to frighten her. But his voice was grim, not sensational. He took no pleasure in another's pain.

Gone were the heroic, almost bloodless stories of the titan war. In their place was something from which nightmares were born. There was no doubt that the stories told by Athena and Artemis had sprung from the words she was now writing down. It had happened before the goddesses were born, but one of the original Olympians must have kept the stories alive. The stories had only grown in the retelling, and they haunted Lord Hades to this day. She was no longer surprised that he didn't have company. She could also see why he would want them forgotten.

It wasn't as simple as pretending they didn't exist, though. These experiences, as painful and terrifying as they were, had formed him. He'd learned and grown afterward. It took him ages to pull himself together. Without that, would he be the same man she loved today? Or would he be like Zeus, who had never been opposed in his life?

She learned more of Lord Hades than she expected. From Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos, she learned of his kindness and generosity. From Charon, she learned of his sadness and agony. He had committed terrible acts during the titan war, and had atrocities committed against him. It was not her place to judge him. Some of his reactions made more sense now. When someone had been as burned and abandoned as he has been, they shied away from the ways of the world. It was truly a privilege to be one of his inner circle.

She learned of his many scars, both visible and not, and how he gained them. She ended more than one session with tears flowing down her face. Lord Hades became more precious to her. Not because of what he'd done during the war, but because of how close he, an immortal god, came close to ending. Immortality was a fragile thing when it came to a war between gods and titans.

The worst of it left her devastated and in no mood to face company. She went downstairs by route, but didn't enter the parlor. She waited outside, wiping away tears she hadn't managed to stop. Lord Hades came around the corner and saw her.

"Lady Persephone," he exclaimed, "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He started to reach for her, but hesitated. Through the haze of her tears, she saw his indecision. His desire to comfort her warred with hisknowledge that he was unworthy to touch her. No matter how many times he washed his hands, he still felt the blood on them.

So she moved for him. She stepped into his arms, hugging him tight. Her hand went to his side, over the massive knot of scars she had written about that day. If she hadn't been watching for it, she might not have noticed his flinch. He didn't know that she knew about the scars. She laid her hand on his chest as his arms came around her.

"What is it?" he asked. His shadow prowled restlessly, looking for some way to avenge her.

She shook her head. "I don't feel like company right now. Can we go to your study?"

"Certainly," he agreed. His shadow snagged a passing shade. He instructed the maid to give their regrets to Lady Hecate and Lord Thanatos, then bring a meal up to his study.

"I'm not hungry," she murmured. All she wanted to spend time with him.

"But I am," he whispered back. The shade was dismissed, and they began walking toward his study. She leaned heavily on his arm, not because she wanted the support, but because she needed to feel him. Once they reached his study, a small, intimate meal had been set up for them on a little table. He pulled out a chair for her, and then took his own seat. He served himself some food, and wordlessly offered to do the same for her. She shook her head. Her stomach clenched at the thought of food. He reached out and took her hand. His fingers felt warm compared to hers. It was as if she could feel his life through his hand.

"Now, what shall we talk about?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Something happy," she suggested.

A smile touched his lips. "I haven't taken you to the Elysian fields yet, have I?" he began. "There are many different Elysian realms, actually…" and he went on to describe some of them as he ate. It was a light-hearted conversation, just what she needed to banish her sorrow. He was no longer on the battlefield she had written about, suffering, in agony, alone. He was in front of her, alive and well, speaking of a joyful place in his kingdom.

Every now and then he would add in comments like, "This really is very good. You should try some." He'd offer her something off his plate. She was slowly starting to relax, but still wasn't hungry. It was impossible to deny his gentle coaxing though. His eyes lit up in pleasure as she took the morsels from. That made it entirely worth it. He never did serve her, delighting instead in feeding her himself. They continued until she'd eaten a whole meal. She was aware of something shifting between them. They were acting like lovers, even more than usual when they were alone.

Afterwards they moved to the couch. She sat next to him as always, but then he did something he'd never done before. He turned his body sideways and put his legs up on the couch with hers. She knew instantly this was what she needed. She stretched out next to him, every line of her body touching his. He was so much taller than her that her feet didn't reach his. She loved this position. She loved that the couch wasn't wide enough for two people, so she was half-reclined, half-pinned to the back of the couch. His weight, lightly holding her in place, didn't make her feel trapped. It gave her a sense of freedom, as if she could surrender all control and he would never hurt her. She laid her head on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his steady, deep breathing, hearing the strong, reassuring thump of his heart. She sighed in deep contentment. Yes, this was precisely what she'd needed.

He ran his hand through her hair and down her back. "Is this alright?" he asked.

She snuggled into him. "This is perfect," she slurred in pleasure.

"Will you tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something to you?" His hand continued to stroke idly along her back. It was incredibly soothing.

A chill went down her spine. Her hand moved to his side again. This time he grunted and jerked. He caught her hand and rested it on his chest.

"Sorry, tickles," he lied. She allowed him the falsehood. Someday, she hoped, she would hear the story of those scars from his own lips instead of Charon's tales.

"Sometimes," she hedged, "You just need to cry, and then you feel better."

"Do you feel better?" he asked skeptically, not believing her any more than she believed him.

She hugged him. "I do now," she said fervently. He continued to hold her until she fell asleep.

It wasn't only Charon and Lord Hades that she made progress with. After weeks of practicing witchcraft, she finally began to manifest her magic. At first it was a blurry, vaguely shifting patch of green. The movement reminded her growing vines, and suddenly the green blur resolved into thin tendrils of new vines. There were a few nascent leaf buds that had not yet sprouted. She was utterly charmed by the manifestation of her magic. It seemed very appropriate for her, like nothing else would fit.

In the next instant she was crippled by head-splitting pain. Her skull was on fire, or being crushed, or maybe about to explode. She didn't know what it was, only that it hurt. Her head was about to fall off, or her brain would leak out her ears. She gasped and all but passed out. She collapsed in the middle of the lesson, clutching at her head. Lady Hecate came over to her.

"Don't worry," she said with a startling amount of pride in her voice, "It's always like that when your magic first begins to manifest. It will get better with practice. Why don't you take the rest of our session off today?"

It took Persephone several minutes before her headache subsided enough that she could move without vomiting. She rose unsteadily. When she was feeling this bad, there was only one place she wanted to be.

Lord Hades was about an hour into his judging when she entered the throne room. She tried to be unobtrusive but he saw her, in obvious distress, and immediately ordered everyone out. He met her halfway down the room and carried her back to his throne. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. She huddled against him, weak and miserable. When he understood that it was a headache, he began to massage her temples with his clever fingers. Eventually the ragged spikes stopped pounding into her skull. Her head still felt tender, but it was not nearly as bad as it had been.

"What happened?" he asked, "And don't try to avoid me like you did before!" He scowled at her.

She started guiltily. It seemed he hadn't accepted her explanation for her chin injury and the day she couldn't stop crying as well as she thought he had. She took a deep breath, and told the truth.

"Lady Hecate have been giving me witchcraft lessons," she admitted nervously.

He blinked in surprise. "Oh," he said blankly, not meeting her eyes. He quickly changed the subject.

Later she asked Charon about it. He nodded in understanding.

"You can ask Hecate about it," he began, "But everyone manifests magic in different ways. We can do certain things without manifesting, but for major items, you have to manifest. You've seen me work magic with coins. Thanatos has his scythe, and Hecate uses orbs." He raised his eyebrows expectantly at her. She realized at once who he'd left out.

"How does Lord Hades manifest his magic?" she asked.

"You've seen it, actually," he replied mysteriously. "It's always around him."

She thought about it, and only one answer came to mind. "His shadow?" she spluttered. "But it's always like that!" It nearly killed her to manifest her magic for a few seconds. Even Lady Hecate, Lord Thanatos and Charon were sparing when they manifested magic.

"In order to do that," she thought out loud, "It must take…"

"An _enormous_ amount of power," Charon confirmed. "And he never feels the least bit drained from the effort. He doesn't notice it at all. I imagine, when he found out you were taking lessons, he was worried you'd find out how his magic manifests, and then you'd know what a freak he is."

"He's not a freak!" she snapped hotly.

He gave her an indulgent smile. "You and I both know that," he said, "But Hades thinks he is different, and that's how he feels."

Persephone nodded in understanding. Over the next few days, she made sure to treat Lord Hades the way she always did. His shadow had not bothered her before she knew what it was, and it didn't bother her now. Once he realized it, he relaxed around her once more.

Life in the Underworld went on as normal. Persephone was kept very busy, but she couldn't remember a time when she was happier.


	21. Breaking Point

**A/N: Happy September! Thanks for sticking with me still. Two weeks is a long time between posts, I know, but I've been using the time wisely. I've made sure to work on the story a little every day after my homework. Pharmacology is already crazy, and I'm only two weeks in. This story provides a well-needed respite from going too mad with everything.**

**Here is your long-awaited chapter, in more ways than one!**

* * *

**Chapter 21: Breaking Point**

Everyone has a breaking point. Hades should know; he'd been broken several times. He was used to the breaking of his body, mind and soul. He was familiar with the snap of his temper when it flared. During the course of his judging, he had experienced broken lives and broken lands. His first eons in the Underworld had been spent breaking a lot of things. He had learned to recognize when he was approaching that fragile line. On this side, control and order. On the other, broken madness.

He knew what it was to flirt with that line, and to bull past it recklessly. This time when his control broke, it was as softly as a slowly eroding bank. Grain by grain he was swept away, until he toppled with a soundless crash. He wondered if being broken so many times before had strengthened his ability resist, or made it inevitable that he would fall. Either way, his control was well and truly broken. He was so far over the line he couldn't even feel where it had been.

Persephone had been in the Underworld for six weeks. And he could no longer be silent on his emotions. She had wound her way into his heart within days of being in his kingdom. It had taken this long for his resolve to leave her alone to shatter. Maybe he could have held back if she wasn't so determined. Over the last several weeks, he had witnessed an amazing transformation in her. She had gone from a terrified maiden to a confident young woman. In the first weeks of her stay, she had frightened him with her apparent lethargy. Not only had she recovered from her lethargy, but she had grown stronger as well.

The way that his advisors treated her had also changed. They had always been _civil_ to her, but there was an underlying amusement. It was like they didn't think she belonged in their world, and were only indulging her interest. Now there was mutual respect between them. When Hecate or Thanatos spoke about his realm, Persephone asked astute questions and committed the answer to memory. As time went on, Hades realized this wasn't a passing fancy to her; she genuinely wanted to know everything about the Underworld. How could he not fall more in love with her?

It was his day off, and he had decided to tell her how he felt. What happened next would be up to her. If she felt nothing for him, he would release her from all obligation to share his company. If she wanted to leave the Underworld, he would escort her back to Demeter. His realm would then suffer for his negligence, for he would remain in the mortal world. He would protect Persephone from his place in the shadows. It was the only way he could keep her safe. She might not want anything to do with him, but he would not abandon her. She need never know of his interference. And if by happy chance, she returned his regard… He had scarcely dreamed the joy that could be his.

She sat through the judging with him. Afterward she crawled into his lap to nurse him back to life. He vowed it would be the last time they did this. If she felt nothing for him, he could no longer obligate her to help him. And if she did feel something for him, it would be the last time they cuddled without him kissing her senseless.

He finally recovered. They rose together. Automatically Persephone took his hand and intertwined their fingers. He loved how free she was with her touch. His heart ached at the thought that soon he might have to give that up. On the other hand, how much better could it get if they became acknowledged lovers? Not that Hades was going to take advantage of her. Above all else, he would do right by her. He wasn't the sort of man to engage in meaningless flirtations. That was what had convinced him to speak up. After living with him for so long, he was aware of the damage done to her reputation, not to mention the growing closeness between them. She had to have noticed his reaction to her. She deserved an explanation, if nothing else.

She turned down the path to the stables by habit, but he stopped her with a tug on her hand. She turned back to him inquisitively.

"Actually, I was thinking of doing something different today," he began. He felt a thrill of nervousness. There was one last part of himself he wanted to show her. He was no longer holding anything back.

"Okay," she agreed. Her eyes were shining with curiosity. She was so willing to follow him. That much trust humbled him, and gave him a responsibility to never lead her into harm. He smiled and touched her cheek fondly. A small sigh escaped her lips as she leaned into him. His pulse jumped erratically. They needed to get out of here before they _didn't_ leave, or he wouldn't be responsible for his actions.

He led her through the palace to the tallest tower. A long staircase of winding jasper was set into the walls, and they began to climb it. There was no guardrail, so his shadow paced her protectively. The staircase spiraled onward, almost endless in appearance. He checked back on her frequently, but she didn't appear fatigued. The stairs went on steadily, circling the tower as they rose. There were no landings to rest on. The tower was lit by torches set into the walls every dozen steps or so, giving the stairs a half-shadowed, mysterious glow.

"What is this place?" Persephone's voice echoed when she asked.

He smiled over his shoulder at her. "You'll see," he said, deliberately teasing. Even though he had been up this tower before, had in fact built it, it still took a ridiculously long time to reach the top. But then, it wasn't the tallest tower for nothing. The roof of the tower pressed down on their heads. Anyone looking down from that height was almost guaranteed to get dizzy by both the height and the twisting stairs below them. He started to warn Persephone against it, but she was leaning against the wall, breathing hard, pressed as far from the edge as possible.

There was a trap door above them. He pushed on it, and they took the last few steps onto the top of the tower. By that time, both of them needed a moment to catch their breaths. The top of the tower was a flat circle perhaps twenty paces in diameter. A crenelated wall surrounded them, providing protection from a long drop below. All the torches from the town made a smoky haze around them. There was no natural wind in the Underworld, but Hades had long ago created a slight updraft over his town and palace to vent the smoke away from them. It kept the air from becoming too oppressive, even for ghosts.

As they recovered, Persephone drew near the wall to look out. Hades merely watched her. She studied the view, unaware of how she was being studied as well. It was the opposite of their overlook. There, the gentle light of the fields surrounded them, while the town and palace were a faint orange glow in the distance. Here, the world was lit by hundreds of torches, casting garish, flickering light over everything. The fields, a naturally fainter light to begin with, were barely a glimmer on the horizon. It was like the difference between looking at the stars in the middle of a lowland city, filled with fires and smoke, and looking at them on a mountain top on a clear night. Hades had had a long time to compare each view, and he knew which he preferred. He wondered which one was her favorite.

"It's pretty," she commented, "But I think I like our overlook better. Does that bother you?"

"Not at all," he said warmly. He agreed with her completely. But the view wasn't the reason he'd brought her up here. His shadow shifted behind him. His heart drummed nervously. He had no doubts about what he was going to do, but he hoped she understood what it meant to him. She finally cast a glance over her shoulder at him, and gasped. Her mouth dropped open in wonder as she turned to face him.

"You're going to fly?" she asked, eyes wide in delight. His shadow stretched from his back in the form of huge, dark wings. She hadn't seen them since her first day.

"I'd like to take you flying," he offered, trying to make it sound casual.

"Really?" her voice squeaked in excitement. "Can I touch them?" She half-reached toward his shadow-wings but hesitated. He hid a smile in amusement. She was already familiar with his shadow, but for some reason putting them in this shape made them new again. He extended one shadow-wing the rest of the way toward her. She tentatively stroked her hands over it. He closed his eyes against the soft whisper-touch against his shadow. She was the only one who wasn't afraid to touch him so intimately. Everyone else was frightened of his shadow, or it felt too uncomfortable. Persephone's touch was a taste of Elysium.

"Does it bother you when I touch them?" she asked in concern, raising her hand from his shadow.

He opened his eyes and shook his head. "Give me your hand," he said. She placed her hand in his. He stretched out her arm and ghosted his palm over her flesh, barely stirring the fine hairs on her skin.

"That's what it feels like," he told her.

She shivered. "I like it."

"So do I," he admitted, smiling in invitation. "Are you ready to go flying?"

"What do I do?"

"You'll have to hold tight to me," he warned in advance.

"I don't mind," she looped her arms around his neck. He rested his hands on her hips and guided her backward until she hit one of the crenelations. He lifted her on top of it, her head now a couple inches taller than his. She looked over the edge of the wall nervously and instinctively tightened her hold on him, even though she was in no danger of falling off. The wall was thicker than his arm, so she would have to be trying in order to go over the edge. Of course, when one purposely jumped off the tower, that was a different story altogether. Now for the part that was likely to test his control the most.

"Put your legs around me," he instructed, trying to sound professional and not like he was seducing the woman he loved. She did as he asked, and he had to take a moment so he wouldn't embarrass himself. He tried not to think of her flowers-and-rain scent, or her warmth as she held onto him. She absolutely deserved to have an understand from him after this.

"Hold on," he warned. She tightened her grip on him, and he wrapped his arms securely around her middle. He stepped onto the low part of the wall, carrying her with him, and then the high point. He moved to the edge until he could grip it with his toes.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"If you are," she replied.

With that he flexed his knees and jumped off the wall of the tower. Persephone screamed, nearly deafening him. It threatened to distract him from getting them into the air. He'd never taken another person flying. Her weight was slight, but it was enough to throw off his balance. He spread his shadow-wings, but they were still going too fast. He reached out to power of the Underworld, and it answered him. His wings grew thicker and longer. A glowing skeleton of blue-white Underworld light spread through his shadow, giving him a fiendish look. They caught the air at last, and their sharp descent slowed.

He steadied out over the town, and flew with heavy wingbeats toward the fields. He was able refine the size and shape of his wings as they went; the wings he used to carry himself were inadequate to carry another person with him. It wasn't only Persephone's weight, but the drag of her body against the wind, and the way clinging to her made him less agile. It was a dozen little things he'd never considered, but that he had to take into consideration.

When he first began flying, his wings had been huge and clumsy. It was only with experience—and study of mortal bird wings—that had enabled him to develop something graceful. He went through the same process now, only with experience behind him. When he was finished, his shadow-wings, though still larger than his usual ones, had the elegant angles of a raptor. Not only did they look better, but they were better made for flying. Once he was confident that they weren't about to drop out of the sky, he was free to look down at his passenger.

Persephone's face was pressed to his neck for protection. The wind snatched at her, but she seemed to have no problem holding onto him. Of course, that might have been because of the death-grip he had on her. Her breath puffed out in warm bursts on his neck. He felt her heart pounding against her ribs, pressed so close to him it was like her heartbeat was in his chest as well. He worried she was too frightened, but she began to slowly raise her head to look around. Her jaw fell slack at the sight of the fields passing quickly below them, and her grip loosened.

"Don't let go," he warned into her ear. A fall from this height and speed wouldn't kill the goddess, but it would hurt a lot. That was the last thing he wanted on today of all days. She tightened her hold on his neck.

"Don't want to choke you," she replied, struggling to speak against the wind. Her words felt like soft kisses on his skin before dying away.

"You're not," he assured her. Even if she cut off all his air, he would prefer it to letting her go. He circled lazily over the fields, letting her adjust to the movement of his body and wings. Her rain-and-flower scent mixed with the fragrance of growing things, until he felt as though they were not in the Underworld at all. She was his personal sun, the warmth of her body making him feel alive like never before.

He began to beat his wings harder, slowly rising. "Be prepared," he warned, and started a series of shallow dives. He practiced with her weight, learning the new limits when he was carrying someone else. It took longer to stop, longer to get up to speed again. His turns weren't as crisp as when he was by himself. He took a certain delight in the way Persephone gasped each time they dropped, even though he was being very gentle compared to how he _could_ fly. Sometimes she would let out a startled cry, or giggle nervously against him, sending shivers through his entire body. In fact, she was about to find out what _real_ flying was like. He had a good grasp on what he could do with her, and he was eager to show off for her.

"Is this alright?" he asked first.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Are you ready for more?"

She looked up at him, biting her lip from excitement or fear. It drew his attention to her mouth. He wanted to reach down and taste her, to nibble that lip for her. He almost missed it when she nodded, and he had to forcibly pull his attention back to flying. Once more he began circling, beating powerfully for altitude. The Underworld wasn't physically under the surface of the earth. It was far too large for that, though it was connected to the earth's underground caverns. There was no ceiling as such to his realm. He supposed he could have climbed indefinitely, but he had no desire to test it. He only had to be high _enough_. So long as he left a healthy safety margin below him, the actual height didn't matter. After all, it wasn't the climb that was the fun part.

He gave one last thrust upward, spreading his wings so it seemed like they were hovering for a heartbeat. Then he did a neat wingover and began to plummet. She screamed at first, but turned it into whoop after only a second. He gathered speed and spun off into a barrel roll. The motion tried to pull her away from him, but she was too well secured to fall. He reveled in the strain of muscle and the roar of wind. His own heart was beating with exhilaration, and he was only getting started.

From the barrel roll he did another short dive, and then circles so tight his wings turned nearly vertical. He straightened out and flew a couple, almost lazy loop-de-loops. He did another dive, this time angling the feathers of his wings so they went into a wild corkscrew. They'd drifted close to the ground by this point, so he rose with hard, sharp wingbeats, maintaining momentum until he did another wingover. They dove, and a few dozen feet from the ground he leveled out while still keeping his speed, his wings folded tightly along his back. A series of unpredictable hairpin turns later—Persephone alternately squeaking and laughing her head off—he rose for the last time.

He strove for height, going higher than before. He panted hard with exertion, but he had one final trick up his wings. He executed a final, perfect wingover, and plunged toward the ground. Faster and faster they fell. Straight down they went, his shadow-wings making tiny adjustments to keep them on course. He had the accuracy and speed of a falcon. His eyes were fixed on a single spot on the ground, never wavering. He squeezed her to him as tight as he could, trying to streamline their profile more. Their speed ripped at their faces and clothes like tiny claws. It stung and threatened to tear, but still he fell faster, gathering at much speed as possible. She was gasping breathlessly, unable to draw air with the force of their travel.

Without warning he flipped them upright and snapped open his wings. If they had been made of flesh and blood, they would have been torn from his back in an instant. Even expecting the powerful drag against him, he still felt the vicious strain of maintaining control. He might be sore in the morning, but it was going to be so worth it. Energy surged through him, the Underworld responding to his need. The force of gravity threatened to pull Persephone from his arms.

"Hades!" she cried out, half alarm and half insane joy. Her voice cut through him; he decided he never wanted to hear his title from her again. He felt as though he were being crushed from the pressures against him. His incredible momentum pulling him down, his wings yanking him backward. The absolute knowledge of how painful it would be to hit the ground at this speed. For nearly a hundred racing heartbeats it felt like they wouldn't stop. And then the strain on him began to ease. Bit by bit they slowed, until they seemed almost to be drifting.

He had timed it perfectly. With a few gentle lofts he brought them to their overlook. His shadow-wings faded into its usual amorphous shape as he lowered her to the ground. Her feet touched down, but she clung to him as if she hadn't the strength to stand. He stared down at her, feeling his heart racing. This was the moment. This was how he planned to reveal himself and say he loved her. He had shown her how to fly; all that was left was to give her his heart. But as he looked at her windblown face, his carefully prepared speech was forgotten. Her cheeks were pink from flying, her eyes bright as she met his. Her hair was delightfully mussed. He cupped her face in his hands, her warmth sinking into him. She was so vitally alive. Her head raised to his as if she knew what was coming.

He kissed her. The first press of their lips was soft and tentative. Until he'd done it, it hadn't occurred to him that he'd never kissed anyone before. But once he was touching her, it was all instinctive. Gentle movement, hesitant pressure as if asking permission. She tasted the way she smelled, fresh and unspoiled. She was sweetness defined.

They pulled back at the same time, breathing hard in a way that had nothing to do with exertion. They stared at each other uncertainly. Hades was faintly ashamed of himself. He'd taken advantage of her without giving her the assurance that he wouldn't abandon her.

"Persephone, I—" he stopped. He tried to apologize, but he couldn't. He wasn't sorry for what he'd done. There was only one thing he could say then. _I love you_. Before he could utter a syllable, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to her. They kissed again, and any doubts about her reaction were washed away by the sensation of her lips on his. She was clumsy but insistent. Her fingers wound through his hair as she strove to get closer to him. If their first kiss had been unsure, this one was hungry. Her passion soaked into him, so he was flushed with it. They broke off, gasping for air.

He groaned, "Persephone, I love you."

"What?" she gasped, her eyes filling with tears.

"I love you," he repeated, his heart clenching painfully. He was fairly certain she at least cared for him, given that kiss, but it was hard to make himself vulnerable even to her.

"I-I love you too," she stumbled over her words. "Hades, Lord Hades—"

"No," he said hoarsely, hardly believing this was happening. _She loved him!_ "My name, just use my name, Persephone," he was practically singing her own name.

"Hades, Hades," she chanted. "I love you so much."

They were kissing again, this time desperate as if afraid the other would disappear. His shadow rose up and wrapped around them. When it cleared, they were somewhere else. He broke away, panting and incoherent. Where were they? The room was familiar, but it took him a moment for his befuddled brain, drunk on her, to recognize it. His study. He flushed. Even in his semi-flustered state, he realized why he had brought them here: because it was close to his bedroom.

He flushed and disentangled himself from her. He took her hands and guided her to the couch. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes, savoring the connection they felt.

"I love you," he said simply.

She nodded. "I love you too," she said.

If only love were the only thing they had to worry about. He still felt nervous and awkward. There were more things they had to discuss.

"I feel," he said anxiously, speaking to fast. "I feel like we shouldn't be doing this. You're so young. You don't know—"

"No," she said firmly, pressing her fingers to his lips. "Don't say that. Don't think because I am young, I don't know what I want. I've wanted you since the first moment I woke up here. My love for you has grown over time, not on the whim of a child. So don't tell me how I think or feel."

He was properly chastened, and impressed by her resolved.

"But," she continued, and faltered for the first time, "I _am_ young. So if you desire someone older, or stronger, more beautiful than me…"

"No," he shook his head. "No, Persephone, I want you. I've loved you from the moment I pulled you from the river. I don't want someone older, or stronger, and no one is more beautiful than you."

She bit her lip uncertainly. "Aphrodite—"

He learned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her bitten lip. "Not to me," he said with finality. He took a deep breath. "But I am _old_," he said. "And if you want someone younger, your own age, someone who's livelier… I know I'm not a good man…" he looked away.

"Hades," her voice was gentle. She turned his face toward hers. "I love that you're older than me. You've seen and done so much, and you don't mind sharing it with me. And you _are_ a good man. You're good to me, and you're good to your people. Nothing else matters to me."

It seemed they'd both had fears, and both worked on laying the other's to rest. He couldn't resist her any longer.

"Come here," he said softly. He kissed her gently, but didn't linger on it. He laid back on the couch and pulled her down with him. They settled together, needing to feel their love close. She laid her head on his chest. It seemed almost like a dream, like she might be snatched from him at any moment. She apparently felt the same, for she raised her head to look at him.

"You love me?" she whispered plaintively.

He recognized her need for reassurance. "I love you," he declared gladly. He tried to be strong, but the words slipped out. "Do you love me?"

"Hades, I love you," she answered without hesitation. She leaned up and kissed him. It was more about confirming their love than building passion. She lowered her head, nuzzling her face into his neck. He played with her hair, marveling at the softness and different strands of color.

"This is nice," she murmured.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. He cleared his throat.

"I would like to court you," he said swallowing hard. He'd known for while that he wanted full partnership with her, but he was less certain she would want what he could offer. She looked at him, her expression soft with wonder.

"You do?" she asked without answering.

He nodded. "I realize it is customary to ask your father before beginning to court you, but in this case I don't trust your father where you are concerned." He paused and clenched his jaw as a surge of anger took him. He had to focus on the positive things. She loved him, and he was never going to allow Zeus to hurt her again. He took a deep breath when he could go on calmly, making her rise and fall.

"I would ask Demeter," he explained, "But I worry about drawing attention to her at this time. I _will_ ask her, when it is safer for both you and her. So I'm asking you: will you allow me to court you?"

She sighed, which did not help his frame of mind at all. "Is that what you want?" she asked. "You—you want to court _me_?"

"Yes." It was the only answer he could give. "I love you. I don't want to be apart from you. If this isn't what you want, don't feel obligated to accept me, but don't doubt my intentions toward you." It was so hard to get his words out. If she said no, he would release her, but it felt like it would kill him.

She inhaled slowly and let it out. "Then… if you want it, I do too." She quickly ducked her head and pressed her face to his chest.

"Hey," he tilted her chin up. "Do _you_ want this?"

She bit her lip again. He smoothed it out with his thumb.

"I do," she said quietly.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't want to embarrass you."

"Persephone!" He sat up, and caught her before she could tumble off the couch. He cupped her cheek with his hand and turned her face toward him.

"I could never be ashamed of you! I love you, and you are brave, and beautiful, and kind." Feeling frustrated, he kissed her, hard and demanding. She started shaking, and he feared he was being too rough with her. He gentled the kiss before ending it completely. There were tears streaming down her face. He felt a jolt of panic, until he felt how tightly she held onto him. With a flash of insight, he understood that this was her fear, not his. He hugged her tenderly.

"I love you," he said quietly.

"I love you," she repeated, "And I never thought you'd love me, that you'd want to court me. But yes, if you want me, then I would love to be yours."

_Yours_. What a wonderful word that was. Yes, she would be his, and he would be hers.

"I want you," he said firmly. "And I swear, as soon as I can, I will ask Demeter's blessing as well."


	22. Zeus' Mistake

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter! It's been building for a while, and it was fun to finally bring them together. This chapter below is one of those "In the meanwhile..." ones, in which we get a glimpse of what's happening in the rest of the world because of the lovebirds. Poor Demeter, but things will work out for her eventually!**

**I also have some bad news. This is the last chapter I have written. I'm working on 23 right now, but I don't guarantee it will be done in the next couple weeks. This Pharmacology class is really kicking my butt right now. Only 4 weeks in, and I have a midterm next week! Yeah, tons and tons of studying. The nervous system drugs make me, well, nervous! There's so many of them! Did you know that hydrocodone, which is used in Vicoden and Norco in human medicine, is actually used as an anti-cough medicine in dogs?**

**Anyway, so this is the last regular update I can promise. I'll get the other chapters out as I have a chance to get them finished. I'm not abandoning the story, and we're getting close to the end, so hopefully it won't be too much longer before I can put out chapters regularly again.**

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Chapter 22: Zeus's Mistake

Demeter was beginning to wish she had two fewer brothers. Then again, if not for Zeus, she wouldn't have Persephone. But Poseidon… She could definitely do without him. Both Zeus and Poseidon had been harrying her for weeks. She was tired. The earth was suffering for it, falling into a drought as she was worn down. She tended the gardens where she could, but her annoying brothers never gave her time to rest.

It was strange to see her brothers staying on a single task for this long. Usually Hades was the only one with the self-control and focus to remain steadfast. Thinking of Hades reminded her of Persephone, and she felt sad. She missed her daughter deeply. It took all her willpower to keep her sorrow from wilting the plants around her. The earth didn't need to be _more_ burdened with her pain.

Currently she was disguised as a wheat-colored mare in a herd of horses. If she could remain undetected for a while, she might have a chance to regroup. A stallion approached her, wanting the thing for which stallions wanted mares. She warned him off with flattened ears and bared teeth. The stallion, familiar with moody mares, shied away quickly. If only her brothers were so easily discouraged. The stallion mingled with the other mares, looking for one more willing.

She dropped her head and began to crop at the brittle grass. Where she bit at the dry grass, fresh green stems sprang up. She scuffed her hoof, and new blades began to grow. She wandered the field, spreading her blessing over it while staying within the herd.

Without warning, the stallion appeared from behind and began to mount her. She ducked her head and kicked out viciously with her hind hooves. Her blow landed squarely on the stallion's most prized possession. With a scream of agony, Poseidon reared up and melted back into his human form, clutching his family jewels. He fell over on his side, red and gasping.

Demeter whickered equine laughter. As if she wouldn't recognize her own brother when he tried to force her! She turned to gallop off, head and tail high with pride. Her pleasure didn't last long. As she passed under a few trees, weight suddenly landed on her back. Startled, she tried to buck it off, but Zeus leaned forward and slipped a golden bridle of her head. Foreign power lashed at her, freezing her muscles. She tried to fight it, but as a horse the gold bridle had complete power over her.

Zeus twisted the reins in his hands and jerked them hard. The bridle bit into the thin skin of her face, wrenching her head around. "You're mine now, sister," he sneered. "When I'm done with you, you'll tell me where our daughter is, and then I'll take care of both of you."

Terror shot through her as he spurred her sides cruelly. No! She'd gotten tired and careless, and now Zeus had her in his power. Anger and fear made her scream out against him, but it only sounded like a horse's shrill cry of pain. He forced her to gallop into the air. Higher and higher they rose. Every time she faltered, Zeus was quick to lash her with a quirt and rake her sides with his spurs. Welts formed on her flanks, stinging as her sweat dripped into them. Her sides heaved for breath, blood from the spurs running down her body. The pain in her body couldn't match the pain of her heart—or the fire in her soul as she vowed to protect Persephone. Zeus might try to torture obedience out of her, but she would never give up her daughter!

Her pulse pounded with effort, sounding like drumbeats of fury. It raged in her breast, furious with Zeus, with Poseidon, frightened out of her wits for Persephone. Nothing on Earth, Olympus or the Underworld could make her willingly say where her daughter was, but she could feel Zeus' over-powering will pressing on hers. He would _break_ her, with no remorse or hesitation. From somewhere she drew on deep reserves of strength, the power given to all mothers who sought to protect their children. She would not give in. Zeus would not get Persephone through her.

Onward they climbed, until the air grew thin and cold. Chips of ice formed in her lungs and burned her. Under the golden bridle she was forced to go on. She grew weak an exhausted. Only Zeus's power kept them up, though he continued to abuse her viciously. They passed through a veil between worlds and emerged someplace cold and hostile. A vast, ostentatious set of buildings of white marble and gold floated on clouds in front of her: Zeus' sky palace. They landed hard on the marble platform that rested on top of the clouds. Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees.

Zeus calmly dismounted, reins still clenched in his fist. The edge of the clouds was only a few feet away. She looked at it longingly. If she went over, it would be a long fall back to the mortal realm. It might even be enough to kill her. At least then she wouldn't be a danger to Persephone. Would Hades let her see her daughter one last time before judging her?

Before she could act on the impulse, Zeus jerked on the reins. He forced her to stand and follow him as her led her to one of the smaller buildings. She stumbled along, weary in body and sick at heart. Staring at his back, he anger grew. Without warning she lunged forward, teeth bared. He turned at the last minute, dodging aside. He yanked hard on the reins. Pain lanced through her body, and she fell over with it, her hooves peddling the air helplessly. He laughed at her, not loud, a soft, amused chuckle. Once her fit passed, he forced her to her feet again and continued to lead her away.

She expected he would torture her for information. He'd probably force himself between her legs too. She did not expect him to drop her off at the stable. He handed off the reins to a naked, fat cherub and walked away. She stared in astonishment, and then tried to pull the reins from the cherub's hands. The golden bridle held her tight, and all the cherub had to do was shake the reins, and her muscles locked into obedience. It was humiliating. The cherub brought her to an empty stall and tied the reins to a tall hook. Then it left her.

She was alone in the stable. Her thoughts turned immediately to escape. She tried a couple times to flip the reins from the hook, but it was too high for her. She tried to set back and break the reins, but all that accomplished was the bridle digging into her poll. Breathing hard, she rested a few minutes and attempted to put her head down. The bridle pulled her up again. She couldn't lower her head more than a few inches before all the slack was taken in the reins.

She was forced to stand with her head up. It was an unnatural position for a horse, though it wasn't too extreme at first. But as hour after hour passed with no relief, her muscles began to ache. A day passed with no one coming to check on her, and then another. She became terribly thirsty. Zeus had ridden her hard to reach the sky palace, and the air was bitterly cold and dry. Her legs grew tired. She shifted her weight, trying to find a position to provide her relief, but no matter what it started to hurt in a few minutes. There was barely enough slack in the reins for her to weave back and forth, and that's what she tried to do, giving each leg in turn a small rest. It soon became an agony that was unbearable.

That was when she realized she _was_ being tortured. It was the torture of being forgotten. No one ever came for her. There was no food, no water, no company, no rest. She couldn't lay down with the golden bridle on her face, couldn't return to her human form. All she had was time to think. Lots and lots of time to think. In the beginning she plotted revenge against Zeus. He had a lot to answer for, and she enjoyed coming up with increasingly creative—and unlikely—ways to make him pay. She couldn't stay solely focused on vengeance though. It grew melancholy, twisting her spirit into a dark form she didn't like.

Her thoughts turned to her daughter. She hoped Persephone was well. Hoped Hades was treating her well. Wondered if they had fallen in love, and what it would be like to have Hades as a son-in-law. She lived in her memories for a while, remembering happier times. In her mind, a young Persephone laughed and played, eternally a child. Memories couldn't sustain her forever. Days passed, and weeks. She wouldn't die of dehydration and starvation, but she wished she could. It would be a welcome relief from her situation. The agony of her body grew and consumed all else. At times she passed out, and came to with the golden bridle choking her.

Her thoughts turned unfortunately to Hades. For the first time she began to realize how he must had felt, forgotten and abandoned in the Underworld. It was an awful feeling. Her horse form couldn't cry, but her heart was aching for him. She was just as guilt as her brothers and sisters. How hard would it have been to talk to him once in a while? Instead, she turned her back on him cruelly, forgetting him in the pursuit of pleasures like the rest of her siblings.

How much different would things have turned out if they hadn't ostracized him? He would have been a steadying influence on their wilder antics. Maybe they could have taught him to laugh and smile more. If they had given him a chance, he might have been the king of the skies instead of Zeus. What would that have been like? She would have never been in this situation if he were their ruler. Remorse humbled her. If she ever got out of here, she vowed to be nicer to him.

Delirium began to set in. She was miserable, her body beaten, her heart scored. It was at her lowest point, when she was ready to give up, that Zeus came for her. She didn't remember his arrival. She looked up wearily, and he was there. He reached up and untied the reins. She was so weak that she collapsed without the golden bridle holding her up. Her muscles had frozen in one position, so now that she could finally put her head down, it hurt too much to move. Zeus knelt by her and removed the bridle. It had grown into her face, so that it was like ripping off bits of flesh. Even that didn't stir her more than a twitch.

"My poor Demeter," he murmured, "Why do you resist me like this? You're only hurting yourself." He passed his hand over her broken flesh. It healed, and she returned to her goddess form.

"Pick her up," he commanded, and walked away. A swarm of cherubs emerged and took hold of her. They carried her through the sky palace to a lavish bath. They washed her, perfumed her skin, and put soft robes around her. She watched it all passively, because it seemed to be happening to someone else. She wondered if this was a delusion, and she was really back in her stall.

The cherubs brought her to a huge lounge. A long table was set against one wall, set with every kind of food one could desire. It smelled wonderful, and her dormant hunger suddenly roared to life. Saliva flooded her mouth as she yearned for the food, but she was too weak to move on herself toward it. The cherubs carried her away from the table and placed her in a recessed sitting area festooned with overstuffed pillows. It was opulent to the extreme, exactly the way Zeus liked it.

The master of the house was lounging across from her. She tore her eyes from the food to watch him warily.

"Hello, Demeter," he said pleasantly. "I'm sure you must be hungry." There was a plate of fruit and cheese by his elbow, and he almost absently ate a few grapes while watching her. Bastard. "I thought we'd start small. Wouldn't do to upset your stomach now."

He offered her a tiny cup of wine. Drink on an empty stomach wasn't a good idea when she needed to be sharp, but she was too parched to care. Strength came back to her limbs, enough for her to grab the glass and drain it in one gulp. She could have drank several amperes more. It was surprisingly good wine, sweet and potent. Of course it could have been pig swill and she wouldn't have cared.

Zeus frowned disapprovingly at her. "You ought to have savored things more," he chided her. "Like this."

He leaned forward and kissed her, putting his hand on her breast. No doubt it was meant to be seductive and sensual. Frankly, he hadn't been that good of a lover the first time for her to repeat that particular mistake. She bit his tongue, drawing blood. He jerked back with a curse, and backhanded her across the face. She fell over from the force of it, her teeth cutting her cheeks. Her blood tasted more metallic than his, as dehydrated as she was.

Still calling her foul names, Zeus grabbed her wrist and yanked her from the room. Her legs were too weak to support her, and he didn't wait for her to get up when she fell. He dragged her behind him, never slowing down as he reached stairs. Sharp marble edges bruised her skin. She tried to scramble up the stairs on three limbs, but Zeus jerked at her and threw her off balance again.

She lost track of how high they went. The air grew thin around them, and bitterly cold. He was used to it, but she became dizzy as she struggled to draw breath. They emerged in a long corridor with doors on either side. He pulled her down the hallway before choose a door seemingly at random. He opened it and threw her into a tiny cell too small for her to stand or stretch out.

"I could have been good to you, Demeter," Zeus growled furiously. "You _chose_ this!" He slammed the door and stalked away. Demeter took a couple minutes to gather her strength. It was incredibly hard to catch her breath. The stone floor beneath her was cold and unforgiving. When she was able, she rose to her knees and tried the door. Locked, of course. The cell was almost as bare as her stall as a horse had been. At least she had relative freedom of movement here. She couldn't stand, couldn't stretch out even lying corner to corner on the floor. Of course, she was too weak at the moment to really care about moving.

There was a tiny, horizontal slit of a window set a couple inches below the top of the cell. She'd have to turn her head sideways and press her ear to the ceiling in order to look through it. There was a high-pitched keen as freezing wind blew through it. Maybe she'd check it out after she got some rest. She turned on her side, curled up for warmth, and slept fitfully for a time.

The cold woke her. It was a savage, relentless thing. Frost had formed on her eyelashes and lips, and rubbing at them did no good. She was too cold even to shiver. After her prolonged starvation in Zeus' stable, she had no reserves of energy left. She was hardly more than a skeleton these days. She decided her brother really was a sadistic bastard. At the moment, she would have welcomed even the fires of Tartarus if they got her warm.

Remembering the window, she crawled over to it and peered out. It was very thin, barely three fingers tall and half her arm in length. The wall around the window was so thick she could only see a small fraction of the outside view. There wasn't much to look at. All she had was a sliver of the black sky, with pure white stars as pricks of light. Instead of being beautiful, the baleful stars seemed to stab at her eyes like icicles. She flinched away from the light, and sank back to the floor.

It seemed she was in for another long round of being forgotten. The few rests of rest she managed to snatch here and there were interrupted by cold and hunger. A fierce wind blustered through the cell at all times, ensuring that the air around her never grew warmer. The small cup of wine Zeus had given her was not enough sustenance after weeks of deprivation. Soon its effects were gone. She was left with an empty stomach, unable to pass on to the next world.

It became worse when she realized that not all the cold she was feeling was her own. She had been removed from the world, and the world was suffering for it. It was a compounding problem. Not only was so no longer on earth to grow things, but the earth could feel her torment and was sending her energy to keep her alive, bring her back. The more energy that was sent to her, the colder, more barren the earth became. She could feel it happening, but was too far away to stop the flow of energy. What was Zeus thinking, keeping her locked up like this? The earth was dying! Soon the mortals would begin to die.

And Zeus couldn't care less about it. He was too wrapped in his own arrogance and power to bother with anyone else. The only good thing about his actions was that Hades would begin to notice the flow of souls into his realm. He'd know what Zeus had done. She wasn't expecting a rescue—she was too far gone for that—but she did expect _retribution_. Zeus would have to pay for his crimes. All the gods would have to pay.


	23. Every Day Better

**A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long since my last update I can't believe how fast time has gone. I still can't promise regular updates, but I will promise never to abandon this story! So, in reward for your patience with me, the next chapter or two will be extra warm and fuzzy! As always, thanks for your reviews, you help me keep going!**

**P.S. I got a 95% on my first midterm!**

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Chapter 23: Every Day Better

When Persephone said she loved him, Hades never imagined he could be happier than in that moment. He was wrong. Every day was better than the last. Every day he found more things to love about her, fell harder in love with her. It began the next morning after their declaration. Before she came to the Underworld, he found it hard to get up in the morning. What did he have to get up for? Now though, he was awake early. He had enough time to reach out to the Underworld and create a flower for her. Now that he was finally courting her, he felt free to express all the little gestures he'd been suppressing. He gave her the flower to her when she opened the door.

"Hades," she said in pleasure. They shared a chaste kiss. "This is beautiful." She tucked the flower in her hair.

"You make it beautiful," he responded, and she blushed. "I love you," he added.

She gave a little gasp and a shiver. He frowned, not expecting that reaction. She smiled wanly and touched his cheek.

"I was afraid yesterday was a dream," she admitted, "I love you too."

That made him smile. "Then I had the same dream, and I don't want to wake up." He cupped her face in his palm, then kissed her lightly. She hummed in pleasure, making him grin. It was all he could do not to scoop her up and press her against him. He settled for tucking her against his side as they went down to breakfast. His heart felt light for the first time in centuries. What a wonderful change one goddess could wreak upon him!

They reached the parlor door, and she pulled away from him. He stopped to look at her. She put her hand on his arm, but kept a careful distance between them. After last night and this morning, why was she suddenly shying from him? Her expression was… stoic. She was trying to be brave, to cover the hurt lingering in her eyes.

He had to resist the urge to growl at whatever was causing her distress. _Nothing_ would touch the woman he loved in his own home! It was difficult to calm himself, but he had no desire to upset her further. He took both her hands in his as he faced her.

"Persephone," he began in a far gentler tone than he thought himself capable, "I had hoped today that we could announce our courtship."

Uncertainty flashed over her face. Her eyes darted to the parlor door, and he began to guess at her hesitation. Declaring he loved her in private was one thing, but she was intimidated at the thought of revealing it to others. He should have told her not to worry; Hecate and Thanatos would likely be overjoyed that he had finally decided to court her.

"You would do that?" she asked nervously.

"Of course," he said firmly. "I love you, and I'm not going to hide it."

"You want that? I mean, you were always so careful, before."

Abruptly, he understood. This was his fault. He kissed her hands, still holding onto them.

"I'm sorry for that," he said in a low tone. "I did not realize my actions would damage you so much. I can see how they would make you feel insecure. I've been fighting my attraction to you from the moment you came to my kingdom. Hecate and Thanatos saw it, and tried to encourage us in any way possible. I worried about taking advantage of you, since you were already under my power. I didn't want them to falsely assume about us, so I held back in front of them. Now, though, I am not ashamed of being with you. I want to tell the world about us."

She trembled, blinking rapidly as if to ward off tears. "Really?"

"Absolutely," he swore fervently. Unable to resist, he pulled her to him and pressed soft kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. She nuzzled into him. Her hand crept up and played with the hair at the back of his neck, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. She watched him curiously.

"What changed your mind?" she asked quietly.

"Hmm?" he responded incoherently. It was impossible to think when she was touching him like this.

"You said you were afraid of taking advantage of me. What changed your mind about not saying anything?"

"I watched you. I saw how strong and courageous you could be. You weren't afraid to stand up for what you believed in. I realized, if you wanted nothing to do with me, you'd have no problem with turning me down."

She gave a disbelieving laugh. "I don't think I could ever tell you no."

He raised his eyebrows. Was that what she thought? He'd have to prove her wrong. Without warning he swooped down and grabbed her around the waist. He lifted her in the air, spinning in circles.

She gasped and laughed, clutching at his arms. "Hades! Put me down!" She hit his shoulder playfully.

He stopped and gently lowered her, though he kept his hold on her. She rested drunkenly against him.

"See?" he said breathlessly, "You have no problem telling me to stop."

She paused in surprise, and then smiled. "Maybe you're right," she agreed. She put her arms around his neck and leaned up to whisper in his ear, "But I would have never told you no after you kissed me." And she pressed her lips to his cheek.

A fine shiver ran through him. Had he thought he was courting her? Apparently, she was pursuing him as well.

"No, me either," he said hoarsely when she pulled back. He put both hands on her shoulders, squeezing lightly.

"Are you ready?"

"When you say you love me, I'm ready for anything."

"I love you."

"And I love you too." She covered his hands with hers. He intertwined their fingers with one hand, and used the other to push open the parlor door.

They walked in together, smiling at each other. Hecate and Thanatos glanced at them, then hurriedly pretended to see nothing. Hades suppressed a grin. His advisors were trying to give them the illusion of privacy, in the hope he'd continue touching Persephone if it didn't seem like they were encouraging it. Little did they know not even blatant, accusing stares could tear him away from his beloved. He was about to make his friends very happy. He cleared his throat loudly, and when he had their attention, he deliberately raised her hand and kissed it. Their eyes went wide in shock. This was too easy.

"Persephone and I would like to make an announcement," he declared, unable to hide his smile. How long had he dreamed of being able to say these words, to have this beautiful woman acknowledged at his side like she deserved? He swore his advisors stopped breathing.

"I have asked her, and she has granted her consent. We are now courting," he flushed with pride.

There was a stunned silence for a moment. He could almost see them thinking, wondering how after all this time of trying to push them together, it had happened under their noses. And then they burst out into congratulations.

"Good for you!"

"We're happy for you!"

They spoke over each other, moving forward. Thanatos offered his hand to Hades, while Hecate pulled Persephone into a hug.

"It will be my privilege to serve you both," Thanatos said, shaking his hand heartily.

Next to them, Hecate was saying, "You truly make him happy."

"Thank you, Lady Hecate."

"No, you should call me Hecate, and I shall call you Lady Persephone," the older goddess said, stunning the younger, before turning to him.

"I really believe the two of you will be good for each other," she told him.

"Lady Persephone," Thanatos bowed deeply to her, "I do not think there is anyone more suited for each other than the both of you."

"Thank you," Persephone said shyly, then gained courage, "I love him."

Her words shot through him like one of Eros' arrows. It was the first time they'd confessed their love in front of others. Tender feeling threatened to overwhelm him as he responded, "And I love her as well." Joy bloomed in his chest. She leaned into him, and he kissed the top of her head.

"Aww, don't you look darling!" Hecate cackled, while Thanatos looked on indulgently.

Breakfast after that was a lively affair. Everyone was in the mood to celebrate. Hecate and Thanatos worked to make sure Persephone was welcome. Hades called for a rare wine to be brought out, one of Dionysus' vintages made from mortal grapes. Eventually he would offer her the choice to become bound to the Underworld by sampling its fruits, but not until she was bound to him first. As for himself, he was already wondering when he could propose to her.

She needed more time. This morning had shown him that. She knew that he loved her, but she didn't understand what that meant. He loved all of her, without reservation. She needed to know that he didn't love her because she was dependent on him, or because she was the first woman to set foot in his kingdom. It wasn't because she thought herself lower than him; he knew she was his equal in every way. Had they met in any other way, under any other circumstance, he still believed he would have fallen in love with her. Once she realized it, then he would feel confident in proposing to her.

After the meal, when they stood to separate, his held his hand out to her.

"Come with me?" he asked her. She hesitated, looking at Hecate.

"Go on," the older goddess laughed, flapping her hands at them. "I'll not be the one to keep you lovers apart."

Persephone blushed, and Hades fixed Hecate with a stern look.

"That was uncalled for," he warned. He was now courting Persephone, and he wasn't going to allow others to tarnish her reputation.

Hecate blanched. "I apologize. I only meant, I am happy to see you together, and she can certainly be spared from lessons and such for the day."

He nodded slowly, though he wondered what she meant by _and such_. What else did his love usually do besides learning witchcraft? He led Persephone to his throne room, where they sat through his standard hours of judging souls. She still sat at his feet, but he knew she wouldn't remain there much longer. He had every intention of granting her full rights to his kingdom. She would sit on her own throne next to his, and have as much power to judge the dead as himself.

When the judging was finished, he pulled her into his lap and kept his vow to kiss her senseless. It was every bit as wonderful as he'd imagined. She was startled at first, but quickly became enthusiastic. He sensed this was a new tradition they were starting. She was so delightfully alive, she made him forget about the strain of judging, made the weariness fall from him. He was careful not to push too far, aware of how easily they could get swept away in their passion. The last thing he wanted was to anticipate their vows. She deserved more than to be used like a common tryst. He stopped, breathing hard as he forced his lips away from hers. She all but collapsed against him, tucking her head under his chin.

"I love you," he said raggedly.

"I love you," she repeated, also breathless. "I could get used to that."

He chuckled. "We have all day together, sweetheart," he murmured, trying out the endearment for the first time. He decided he liked it. "What do you want to do?"

"Actually, there's something I need to tell you," she began. "Can we go to your study?"

"Of course," he agreed. He wasn't worried about what she had to tell him. Nothing she could say would alter the way he loved her. He ordered lunch to the brought to his study as they walked there. They sat on the couch, at opposite ends for once, a food tray between them. She picked at her meal nervously.

"What is it?" he asked indulgently.

She looked up at him and took a deep breath. "You know how Lady Hecate, I mean, Hecate, has been teaching me witchcraft? She's been teaching me other things as well."

He blinked in surprise, but felt only curiosity.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like—about the laundry, and housekeeping, and kitchen work—" she babbled anxiously.

"Servant work?" he asked incredulously.

She flinched. "Are you mad at me?"

"Of course not," he reached out and took her hand. "There's nothing wrong with it, but that is why we have servants, so you don't have to."

She raised her chin in a hint of pride. "I wanted to."

"Were you that bored?" He really should have seen to her entertainment when she first came here, instead of leaving her to her own devices. He didn't think it a bad thing that she had done it, but it was below her status as a goddess and his guest. He hated to think she had nothing better to do than scrub floors.

"I wanted to learn about this realm," she defended herself. "Hecate was willing to teach me."

"And did you learn what you expected?" he asked in amusement.

She slowly relaxed. "I learned so much more." She sighed, a happy sound.

He might not understand her desire to learn housework, but he wouldn't begrudge her something that brought her pleasure.

"Then I'm glad for you." He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. She jumped in surprise.

"You are?"

"Did you think I'd be upset over such a little thing?" he laughed.

"No, but…" she hesitated.

He looked at her expectantly.

"There's more."

"More?" he grinned. His little goddess had been busy! What had she gotten into when he wasn't looking?

"With, um, Lord Thanatos."

"Thanatos," he said cautiously, suppressing a flare of jealousy. She was sitting with _him_, not his advisor. She had accepted his love, his courting. And, it had not escaped his attention that Thanatos had not granted her the casual use of his name like Hecate had. It had been deliberate, Hades realized. Thanatos was maintaining his distance from the woman his lord loved. He had to admit, the god of death had always been deeply loyal to him.

"What could Thanatos possibly have to teach you?" he asked, not as amused as before.

"Well, I wanted to learn about the management of the gardens and fields…" she began.

He relaxed with a smile. Of course. It was a perfectly natural interest for the goddess of spring. He should have thought of it before.

"…And the mines," she finished.

He froze. He knew what sort of souls were chosen for mine duty, and he was _not_ pleased that Thanatos had exposed her to them. What if one of them had gotten out of hand? Thanatos was well able to defend her, but it remained that she should never have been put in that situation to begin with. His thoughts flashed back to her early exhaustion, and the cut on her chin she insisted was an accident. If someone had laid a hand on her, the flames of Tartarus would look like the Elysian fields before he was done with them.

"Is that all?" he asked evenly.

"Well…" she hesitated, then burst out, "Lord Thanatos had been teaching me to protect myself!"

"What?" he demanded.

"Umm… protect myself?"

"And how was he doing that?" he asked in a dangerous tone.

"Err… Just, showing me, and stuff…"

She wouldn't meet his eyes, and he had a feeling she wasn't telling him the whole truth. He would be having a discussion with Thanatos later.

"So," he said flatly, "Witchcraft and housework from Hecate, management and defense from Thanatos. Is that all?"

She said nothing. He laughed darkly.

"Who else have you been learning things from?"

"Charon," she whispered.

He froze. Waves of disbelief, hurt, betrayal, anger, shame and grief rushed over him. There was only one thing she was likely to learn from Charon. The one thing he hoped she would never learn about him. He was a monster that had tried to learn to be a god. Charon was the one who never let him forgot who he had been. He had no idea what he'd done to make the other man to hate him so much. While Hades was trying to become a better person, Charon was the one that constantly reminded him of the things he'd done. The terrors he'd seen. The pain he'd inflicted. The horrors he'd committed.

Filled with disgust—at himself, not at Persephone—he dropped her hand and stood. He moved to stand behind his desk, facing away from her. He would never harm her, but the desk might give her a small measure of comfort as a barricade. How could she stand to be in the same room as him, given what she knew?

"And what did you learn from Charon?" he asked heavily, his heart writing in agony. To think he almost had her, was almost able to hold her in his arms forever… But if she knew the truth of him from Charon, she wouldn't want anything to do with him.

"About you," she whispered, and he flinched.

"You can go," he said quietly, his soul weeping. "You don't have to stay with me. I won't… I won't hurt you, or keep you trapped." She might expect something evil from him after hearing the very worst of him from Charon. Had she said yes to him as a way to placate him, because she was too afraid to say no? It began to bother him suddenly that she used the familiar form of the ferryman's name. How close had she gotten to Charon? When she left, would it be to go to him?

Hades heard her rise from the couch. His head bowed with the agony of her leaving. Except the door never opened. He jumped when she touched his shoulder.

"Hades?" She tried to turn him. He resisted.

"I want to see you, please," she asked softly. Reluctantly, he faced her. She'd come around the desk to stand in front of him. Her expression was uncertain; his probably mirrored hers.

"How—" he began hoarsely, "How can you stand here after what he told you?" He licked his lips nervously.

"How can I not?" she replied guilelessly, and reached out to put her delicate palm on his face. He winced. Someone so wholesome should not touch a depraved being like him. For a while, as she confessed her love for him, he had forgotten that he wasn't worthy of her. The mention of Charon brought it all back.

"I see you, Hades," she said, catching his wrist when he would have moved away from her. "_I love you._"

His breath caught in his throat. He couldn't move. His shadow quivered at his feet, unable to believe her. She watched him with knowing eyes, realizing that he didn't understand. She reached for the hem of his shirt.

"No!" he shouted, jerking free from her grip. He jumped across the room in panic, afraid of her _seeing_ him, seeing the horror written in his skin. His scars ached viciously, trying to drown him in blood and pain.

"Hades, please!" she cried, following him slowly. She moved like she would toward a frightened and dangerous animal. Wasn't that what he was? He tried to hold still, but before she came within arm's reach he was rocking back on his heels, leaning away from her. The urge to flee was overwhelming. She couldn't see him like this. She stopped. One more step and he would have bolted again. His breath came in short, terrified gasps. His entire body was shaking.

"Hades," she said in low tone. "Please don't go. I love you. Do you love me?" She edged forward carefully. How could she ask that of him? Of course he loved her. He nodded jerkily. She closed the last bit of distance between them.

"I want to see you," she pleaded, taking the bottom of his shirt in her hands. He grabbed her wrists, stilling her.

"I won't hurt you," she promised, not trying to fight him. It should have been ridiculous, this maiden assuring him, the monster, that she wouldn't harm him. Wasn't he the one that needed to comfort her? But no, he felt very much that the one that was vulnerable here.

"I can't," he rasped.

"Do you trust me?"

He closed his eyes and shuddered. She had trapped him, and now he was going to lose her. If he said yes, she would see his scars and run from him in disgust. If he said no, she would stay, but the lack of trust would eat at her bit by bit until she could stand it no longer. Which was better, to lose her now or later? To sever her affection abruptly, or watch it wither away over time? To never experience her in his arms again, or to hold her, knowing she wasn't really his? There was only one answer he could give.


	24. Washing Up

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I know that was a terrible cliff-hanger, wasn't it? Bad author... Your howls of fury made a nice soundtrack as I studied for my class... Here is the completion of the cliff-hanger, and I promise this chapter is not nearly so bad!**

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Chapter 24: Washing Up

Hades released her wrists.

Persephone pushed up his shirt slowly. He raised his arms, allowing her to remove it completely. The horrors written in his skin were bared to sight. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see her revulsion as she turned from him. His body was so tight he was quivering.

"_Hades_," she breathed, seeing him for the first time. He didn't hear disgust or fear in her tone, but surely it was coming? _He_ didn't like to see his own body. The woman he loved must be suffering disillusionment that he was so disfigured—

She touched him. He flinched, bracing himself against the screams, the blood, the pain… It never came. There were, here and there, very small patches of skin that _weren't_ marked by scars. She had managed to find one of them, and so the memories didn't overwhelm him yet. He shook hard, the strain of holding still getting to him. It was only the touch of two fingers, tips light resting on his skin, but he hadn't been touched in kindness for so long, if ever. It completely undid him.

And then she did something even more miraculous. She leaned forward, so close her warmth radiated to him. And then… And then—she kissed him. That same spot lacking scars, high on his chest. She pressed her lips there, a gesture not born of lust but not platonic either. It was made of love. It exploded through him, making him want to shout in exultation. He didn't even mind that her hair swayed forward, brushing against the scars there.

He opened his eyes and stared down at her as she drew back. Her fingers remained, sending waves of heat and feeling through him. She studied him carefully, eyes tracing the roadmap of scars he bore. Her expression wasn't horrified, and nor did she show pity: she wore acceptance. She found another patch free of blemish, lower on his ribs on the opposite side. She touched him there too, sending electric thrills through him. She gentled it with a kiss, and kept searching.

The next unmarked section was at his waist, above the curve of his hip. This time when she touched and kissed it, it sent a bolt of carnality through him. He swallowed hard and tried to repress his reaction. After the _gift_ she was giving him, he didn't want to assault her. She looked up at him and caught the heat in his gaze. She smiled knowingly, and took his hand. Most of his arm was scarred too, but she found a little place she could kiss without pain, and did so.

"Come on," she said huskily, tugging him toward the couch.

He wavered between honor and sensation. "I don't want—" he rasped, his throat dry. She leaned in close to him. Her scent of flowers and rain overwhelmed him.

"Trust me," she whispered, and kissed the corner of his jaw. No, she kissed the scar there, the one that no longer pained him because of her. He was utterly lost. He allowed her to lead him to the couch, and laid back on it when she pushed him down.

She climbed over him, lying in a position so intimate it was a wonder he didn't combust. She stared down at him, studying his scars as if looking for another place free of them. He could have told her she wouldn't find any, but his voice was lost. So she touched him again, and this time it as on a scar. Not a large one—a smallish one he couldn't remember receiving but that still hurt like the rest. He jerked in anticipation, but it was nowhere near as bad as he'd feared. The screams in his mind started—and then abruptly faded out in a sound almost like a whimper of relief.

It hurt, but not in that jagged, freshly made way. More like the pull of a hard stretch, or the dull throb of something mostly healed. Even that faded after a few seconds. It left behind a section of scar tissue that was both curiously numb and strangely sensitive. For the first time in eons he didn't feel pain radiating from that spot. And yet with the pain gone, he could feel so much more. The air tickling his skin from her breath. The weight of her touch pressing on him. The softness of her lips on his flesh. The warmth of her body fading to cool ir as she raised her head to look at him. He was panting, though he couldn't have said why. His skin felt like it was on fire with sensation. How had she done it to him?

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

Mutely he shook his head. Not anymore. With a smile she looked down and proceeded with her exploration of his chest. First by fingers, then by mouth, she mapped out his contours. He arched and groaned under her when she hit a particularly tender spot. She caressed it gently, running her fingers over it until it no longer bothered him. Then she baptized it with her mouth.

For hours she worked on him, showering him with love and acceptance. He was so _stupid_ to think that a few scars would chase her off, even ones as bad as his. She hadn't run from anything about him; why would she start now? He touch bathed him, cleansed him, _broke_ him. And then she put him together again, only now the pieces fit better, without the pain he had born for so long. He would always have the scars, but they would no longer feature so prominently. It was like lancing a boil, letting the festering pus drain out so it couldn't corrupt him anymore.

Some of his scars were more difficult than others. She kneaded his flesh, and when it grew too much for him, she moved on to let him relax. She couldn't heal him in a day, but she gave him the first measure of respite he'd had since the titan war. The relief of pain made him drowsy, and with no thought to propriety, he fell asleep.

When Hades woke in the morning, he was aware of a warm, pleasant weight on top of him. He raised his head and saw Persephone splayed on his chest. Tenderness flooded over him. This woman was perfect for him. She accepted his flaws, and made them better. He stroked her hair helplessly. He loved her so much, the feeling growing inside him until it pushed everything else out. There was no room for doubt in their union, for she had cast it aside. She loved him. She wanted him. Everything else was trivial.

Persephone began to stir, and sleepily looked up at him.

"I—" he began, but she cut him off.

"I love you!" she burst out quickly.

He blinked in surprise, and she blushed.

"I wanted to be the first to say it this time," she explained, absently tracing designs on his skin. It didn't hurt him. He chuckled, caught her hand, and brought it to his mouth.

"I love you too," he assured her. He would have been content to lie there for much longer, but her stomach rumbled with hunger, followed by his.

"We missed dinner last night," he realized.

"But it was worth it?" she asked quietly.

He hugged her tightly. "Yes, it was worth it, my love." There were so many words that meant she was precious to him. Love. Sweetheart. Baby. Dear. Pet. Honey. He was looking forward to using every one of them.

She sighed blissfully. He sat up, taking her with him. He glanced around for his fallen shirt, but was unconcerned when he didn't see it. His room was right next door for him to get another. Persephone, however, would need to walk to her room to change.

"Shall I escort you to your room?" he offered.

"Um, no, it's alright," she colored slightly. "I usually go down to bathe in the mornings…"

His mind was filled with images of her bare skin, silky water cascading over lithe limbs. He stifled a groan, feeling rather warm suddenly. He cleared his throat hastily.

"Right, well, I'll see you at breakfast then," he said. He didn't _want_ to dismiss her, but it was probably for the best in his current state of mind. She took no offense, smiling as she rose and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. She left, and he was immediately bereft of her presence. He used the adjoining door to his room and changed, paying no heed to what he put on. The only thing that matter was when he could see Persephone again. It was too early to go down to breakfast. He forced himself to wait, pacing between his room in the study. When he thought he had given her enough time to wash and dress, he went down to the dining room parlor.

Persephone was there. It was a joy to watch her eyes light up when she saw him. Thanatos and Hecate were also present, and doing a poor job of hiding their gleeful interest. Ignoring their audience, Hades took Persephone's hands, kissed them, and then pulled her into a hug.

"You are beautiful, my dear," he said, making her blush. His own heart was pounding with her nearness. He would never get enough of her.

"Thank you," she returned his embrace, and they parted long enough to go in for breakfast. His shadow took up its accustomed place around her legs. Their chairs were placed close enough that their shoulders pressed together. He wasn't far from abandoning decorum altogether and pulling her onto his lap. Only the thought that she deserved better than to be hauled around by his brutish impulses kept him in check.

After the meal, Persephone was reluctant to leave. He took on the role of reassuring her.

"You should go back to your lessons and… other duties," he said, just loud enough to be overheard. Hecate and Thanatos shifted uneasily, wondering how much he knew of their activities. He shot them a sharp look. He was about to find out just what they had been doing to his Persephone.

"Don't worry," he promised, "I won't be far."

And he wasn't. He followed Hecate and Persephone as they left the dining room. Persephone gave him a curious look, but Hecate studied for a minute and rolled her eyes. She knew what he was doing

"But what about judging?" the younger whispered to him.

"I'll spend extra time on it later," he assured her, taking her hand and squeezing it. "You know what I do all day. I want to see what you do."

Her face glowed at his expression of interest, and he knew he'd made the right choice. It was worth having to spend extra time judging later to show he cared about the woman he was courting.

Hecate led them to the kitchen washroom. It was a hot, steamy room, noisy with the clatter of dishes and talk from the ghosts at work. Rows of copper cauldrons stood over heating vents, each manned by a spirit busily washing dishes. Hecate and Persephone were common enough visitors that their entrance only caused a mild wave of curiosity. When he came in, the room fell silent. Everyone froze where they were, not daring to move. Souls ducked their heads as he glanced around, trying to avoid his attention. He was careful not to let his eyes fall on any one shade for too long, lest they feel singled out. He recognized everyone there, knew their sins, their sentences, and how long they had served him. He was both respected and feared. He commanded the first, and then second was a result of who he was.

Hecate muttered something under her breath. Hades only caught a few words, but it sounded like, "… not going to get any work done…"

He forced himself not to grin. It was fun to discomfort her.

"Just act like I'm not here," he said blandly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw ghosts exchanging incredulous looks. Like they could ignore the presence of their lord and master, inexplicably standing in their washroom. A nervous spirit dropped a soapy dish with a noisy clatter. She scrambled to silence the ringing noise, looking like she was about to pass out. There was a subtle shift away from her, as if no one wanted to be caught in the crossfire should his wrath fall down upon her. Hecate scowled, but Hades ignored the interruption. The souls were half-terrified of him. If he coughed, they would either faint or fly out the window. He regretted having such a harsh reputation, but it was inevitable with his position and power. Far more astounding to him was that Persephone had looked past it, and fallen in love with him.

"Lady Persephone," Hecate instructed briskly, "You can get started on the washing up." She pointed at an empty caldron. "Lord Hades, do you intend to do anything, or are you only here to distract my workers?" She was more formal in front of others, but her tone bordered on disdain.

"I'll help," he said mildly, smothering a laugh at the disbelief that swept the room. Hecate gave a put-upon sigh, but placed him in front of a copper cauldron across from Persephone's. The spirit at the station quickly vacated it. Hecate had offered him the one next to his love, but he wanted to be able to watch her. He could feel all eyes on him in shock as he rolled up his jewel-toned sleeves and stuck his arms into the hot, soapy water. Even Persephone watched him in surprise as he began washing dishes.

He caught her eye and winked. "I like to keep my hand in," he said with amusement, aware of the incongruous image he made. Lord of the realm, King of the Dead, God of the Underworld, and he was washing dishes in his own home. But she giggled, and it was such a pleasant sound he would have done a lot more to make her happy.

Hecate left them to their work. Several minutes of strained silence passed as spirits tried to wash dishes without making a sound. The loudest noises came from the clatter of his and Persephone's cauldrons. Over time a low murmur started up. It didn't look like he was here to mete out punishment, and they were becoming used to his presence. He wasn't quite as fearsome standing up to his elbows in suds, lightly flirting with his lady.

At least he was trying to flirt. He'd never attempted it before, and she was so serious about her work that it was hard to get her attention. The other washers had a relaxed, bored air about them, but she was tense and focused. She seemed determined to work harder and wash more dishes than any two others combined. Not showing off, he realized, but proving herself. While he was glad to see her dedication, as far as he was concerned, she had nothing to prove.

He waited until she wasn't looking, and flicked a few drops of water at her. They landed on her arm. He waited to see if she'd noticed anything, but she didn't react. He did it again a couple of minutes later, aiming for her shoulder this time. She twitched, but shrugged it off. She _really_ needed to lighten up. He flicked more water on her, watching as it landed on her cheek. She jerked and frowned, rubbing her face on her shoulder. He hastily averted his eyes to his own washing as she looked around. As soon as she looked away again he was going to—

A splatter of water landed on his chest. He fought the urge to grin. Not only had she caught on, but she retaliated as well. He loved her, and that was the plain truth. From then on, it was a game between them. They splashed water on each other, make sure never to get caught in the act. Things naturally began to escalate. A few drops became a handful, which evolved into a of full palm of suds. Soon it was open-handed splashing as they tried to catch the other off-guard. They weren't trying to be subtle now, weren't hiding as they waged a water-war and ducked the oncoming waves. Spirits were staring in astonishment, some surreptitiously joining in on their fellow workers.

Had he thought Persephone needed to lighten up? She was lighter now, _brilliant_, her cheeks flushed as she laughed, her eyes sparkling in mischief. He'd done this to her, had brought out her playful side. Of course, she'd fair done the same to him. He would have never begun this game with anyone else. She alone made him laugh like this, made him jump and cavort without a care in the world. They were soaked in water and suds, breathless as they challenged each other.

For a while it seemed like there would be no winner in their watery duel. The best they could manage was a stand-off when their cauldrons ran out of water. But he'd underestimated her desire to win. She darted to another cauldron. The startled spirit standing next to it automatically made way for her. She looked at him, her expression alive with trouble, and then tipped the entire thing over at him.

A wave of warm, soapy water flooded over him up to his hips. Gasps echoed throughout the room, the sound of disbelief that anyone would dare such a thing to him. Persephone alone glared boldly at him, defiance in her eyes. Not only had she done it, but she would do it as well if she had to. His control snapped. Hades strode forward abruptly, covering the distance between them in two long steps. He grabbed her arm and crushed her to him, his mouth seeking hers. Her normally sweet taste was made slightly bitter from the soap on their skin, but he couldn't get enough of her. Her hands pressed to his chest, exploring her form as he longed to do to her.

"What in Tartarus is going on here?" Hecate suddenly demanded, having walked into her washroom only to find it in complete disarray. The spirits guiltily melted back from her wrath, their faces downcast. Persephone stiffened, but he held onto her a moment longer to be clear that _he_ wasn't ashamed of their actions. When he broke from the kiss, she was panting and leaning on him. Hades raised his head to meet Hecate's glare with one of his own. He'd been having _fun_, and she interrupted. His shadow slipped into something baleful.

Hecate blanched and ducked her head. "My lord," she murmured respectfully.

Persephone pressed her shoulder to his chest. He looked down at her, and she silently pleaded for leniency. He chuckled and ruffled her soapy hair. She snorted and brushed bubbles from his face. He closed his eyes and savored her touch. A faint rustle reminded him that they had an audience. He opened his eyes and looked around, prepared to defend his choice of consort. Then he realized, he didn't need to.

The ghosts of the Underworld were used to seeing Hades as their stern lord who held the power of Tartarus, Elysium and Asphodel over them. They obeyed him because they feared him. For the first time today, they saw something more of him. They saw first his playfulness, his ability to joke and laugh. And now they saw his loving side, tender and caring. He could see the results on their faces: they loved him all the more for it. And they weren't the only ones. He caught Hecate giving him a soft look. She might not be pleased as the ruin of her washroom and the loss of a morning's work, but it was worth it to see him joyful for once.

"As I doubt much work will be accomplished here," she said dryly, "Would my Lord Hades consent to aid my Lady Persephone in her magic lessons?"

"I would be honored," he began solemnly, then added with a cough, "Perhaps after we've had a chance to clean ourselves."

"Of course," Hecate agreed with dancing eyes.

Hades waited until she turned her back, and then used his shadow to flick a few drops of water at her. She pretended it was beneath her dignity to respond.


	25. Making a Forest

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I'm glad you liked that glimpse of playfulness between them. I did promise mushiness, didn't I? You keep me going when my brain is slowly leaking out of my ears from studying... I had a midterm last night, and it was MUCH harder than the first one! But hey, at least I got another chapter in! I'm working on the next, and it will be a mixture of sweet and drama. But you already knew that, since Thanatos' lessons are next! I can hardly believe this story is up to 90k words, and almost 200 reviews! That's amazing!**

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Chapter 25: Making a Forest

Hades and Persephone met in an empty room half an hour later, long enough for them to wash and change. Hades found the ends of Persephone's damp hair to be fascinating. He couldn't help but to reach for them, squeezing out a few drops of water. She turned her head and smiled at him. He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. Hecate came in a minute later and eyed them critically. Persephone nervously ran her fingers over his hands, but he was utterly relaxed. She had seen him at his most bare last night. Nothing could make him give her up now.

Hecate broke into a smile. "Now that I have the two if you—suds free—since I so rarely have more than one pupil at a time, I thought this would be a good day to teach Lady Persephone how to meld magic."

Hades blinked incredulously at the older goddess. She stared blankly back at him, waiting for him to object. Finally he shrugged. This was going to be an… interesting lesson. Melding magic was an extremely intimate act. It required the greatest of trust between two magic-users. What they could accomplish together was much more than either could do alone, but it was difficult to allow someone else into so much of yourself. It was an act of intercourse that was second only to making love. He was not someone who could engage in such lightly. Hecate knew full well what she was asking them to do. He was willing to try it… but only with Persephone. And Persephone was an innocent, unaware of how close they would become. She needed to know the full of it before she agreed.

"A moment with my lady," he said.

Hecate stepped back. He took Persephone's elbow and led her to a corner. His shadow stretched to form a wall between them and the rest of the room. She looked at his shadow with a sigh of envy.

"I wish I could do that," she said, reaching out to skim her fingers across his shadow. He shivered at her touch, and took her hand.

"Persephone," he began, "You should know that melding magic is not like anything you've experienced before. It will bring us quite… close. You have every right to refuse if you wish."

"Why would I refuse?" she asked guilelessly. "There is no one else I want to be close to."

Her answer touched his heart. He felt the same for her. "It's more than that," he struggled to explain. "The melding of magic will cause us to be bound together for the duration of the merge. We will share magic, share thoughts, share hearts and souls. In truth, we could not be closer than if we were to share our bodies as well. I would not wish for you to be forced into anything you didn't want, to taken by surprise."

She was stunned by his revelation. "Hecate would ask this of us?" she wondered out loud.

"She knows," he confirmed. "That is why she couldn't ask anyone but us to try it, and she waited until we were courting to suggest it. Not many can engage in that level of intimacy easily."

To her credit, she didn't immediately answer. She considered it, watching him. "Have you ever done a meld before?"

He smiled faintly. "I have never found someone I could trust enough to let inside me," he responded. "But I'm willing to try with you."

She smiled back at him and touched his face. "I want to try with you," she said firmly.

He turned his head to kiss her fingers, letting his shadow fall. Hecate was entertaining herself by rolling purple-black orbs over her hands. She looked up at them expectantly.

"We have decided to try," he announced for both of them.

Hecate nodded. She had them sit on the floor facing each other, with only a couple inches of space between them.

"Since this is your first time using magic together, I suggest you take a few minutes to familiarize yourselves with your partner's magic," Hecate instructed. "Lady Persephone, this isn't an endurance exercise, so there's no need it hold it when you become fatigued."

Hades looked to his love curiously. Unlike most, he never had a problem manifesting his magic. Frankly, Hecate had taught him to control his magic out of self-defense. Before then, he'd been a hazard to everything around him with his volatile outbursts of power. Persephone took a deep breath and closed her eyes. A look of calm concentration came over her face. She held up her palms, and a green mist formed in her hands. It solidified into delicate, twisting vines that curled round her fingers.

Enchanted, he reached out and very gently brushed one of the vines. It reached for him, circling his fingertip. The feel of her magic was light and fresh, like sunshine itself. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. A faint line of strain appeared in her gaze, and the vines abruptly dissolved. He missed her magic already, though his mouth went dry at the thought of joining with her shortly.

"Charming," he told her, and she blushed at the compliment. She didn't look away though, as she might have before they were courting. She accepted the praise, and let it bolster her confidence. His heart constricted suddenly. She was a beautiful woman. He could hardly believe she had chosen to be at his side.

Hecate cleared her throat, interrupting his study of the woman he loved.

"You're already family with the manifestation of my magic," he said blandly, and set his shadow to circle Persephone lightly. She laughed and ran her hand over his shadow. It arched into her caress like a cat. His breath caught in his throat. It was like she was touching a part of his soul.

"If you are ready to proceed," Hecate said pointedly.

Hades felt no repentance. The elder goddess knew he had recently begun courting his love, and what she had asked of them would only lead to closer intimacies. She had only herself to blame if she found them easily distracted by each other.

"If you can contain your shadow, Hades," Hecate instructed, "I wouldn't wish for Lady Persephone to be overwhelmed when you begin the meld."

No, and he wouldn't either. He withdrew his shadow from around her and arranged it in a humanoid shape behind him. Never mind that it sat at a completely different angle from the women's shadows. It took far too much concentration to make his shadow mimic him exactly. Usually he didn't bother.

"The two of you should touch in some way. Holding hands will be sufficient," Hecate told them.

Hades offered his hands to Persephone. She placed her smaller, more delicate digits in his.

"If you will each gather a small—very small, Hades!—portion of your magics in your hands."

He called on his shadow, and thin tendrils of it flowed down his arms into his palms. He could see the vines once again form along Persephone's skin. He yearned to touch it again. He shadow reached forward before he remembered to keep it in check.

"Now, _gently_, extended your magics toward each other. It may feel quite strange, but don't…"

Hecate's voice faded into the background, for his entire focus was on Persephone and his magic. He felt vines tickling across his skin, just as his shadow was reaching tiny filaments out to her. Their magic touched, circled each other, and then without warning plunged _in_.

As much as he wanted to rush to explore this new presence he could feel inside him, he refrained from doing anything. He didn't want to frighten her with his eagerness, or hurt her by the sudden surge of his magic. On the other hand, she had no such hesitation with him. She drove into him. He knew he was rough-shod and craggy like weathered stone. He felt her wiggling inside him, her magic seeking out the cracks in his being. It was like tree roots filling in the fissures in a rock face. Only instead of wrenching him apart, she anchored him, held him together. His Persephone was lithe and flexible—and she was utterly set on healing him any way she could.

When she seemed to have settled within him, he began to stretch toward her. She provided him with supple cohesiveness. What he gave her was strength and stability. Her vines, used to twining around her fingers, suddenly thickened and reached upward like young trees. Startled, she tried to take control of her magic, to force it into vines again.

_Don't fight it,_ he said into her mind. _Let it go, this is what's meant to be._

She trusted him, and allowed her green magic to expand. And it did. Anchored in the solid base of his magic, hers became a powerful tree. More: it became a forest around them, more trees rising to encompass them. Trees sprouted with dark, green-black trucks and lighter green leaves. It was a product of their two magics working together, producing something greater than themselves. Such a forest had never grown in his realm before.

And then the Underworld stirred. On occasion when Hades worked his magic, it seeped into him to influence his design, and thus it tried now. He resisted it. The Underworld was a much larger force even than himself, and not one controlled by a sentient mind as such. He'd spent centuries breaking himself on the Underworld's power, until he learned to merge with it without trying to destroy either one of them. He didn't want to subject Persephone to that level of force. It had been a painful struggle to learn to use the Underworld's strength, and he tried to protect his love from that agony. She would wither before it like tender vines in a fire, maybe causing real damage to her magic. When she was stronger, when she could claim the Underworld as his Queen, then he would show her how to use the Underworld's power. But not now, when she was still so young in her abilities.

The Underworld crashed hard against him, a tidal wave striking a cliff face. It _hurt_, but he refused to give in to it. It felt as though his bones were grinding together as the Underworld threatened to crush him. He gritted his teeth and braced himself against his own realm. The forest he'd built with Persephone swayed as another wave of power fell upon him. He didn't understand why the Underworld was suddenly working against him. Did it resent the intrusion of another person into his heart and magic? Did it think it was protecting him, even as he stood as bulwark for Persephone?

He wouldn't be able to withstand another assault by the Underworld. He prepared to drop out of the meld to protect his love. Her tree-root magic gripped him tighter, refusing to let him go. She felt his pain, and wove a net around him to catch the power thrown against him. He panicked, knowing she wasn't strong enough to withstand against the Underworld. It would _shred_ her, and he couldn't bear for something to happen to her. He pushed himself through her leafy net; the Underworld thundered down on him, and he shattered under its force. The power flooded through him like water rushing through rock-passages. It fell upon Persephone's magic, but instead of wrenching her away from him, it abruptly gentled and slid into her veins as softly as dew on petals. The Underworld magic soaked into hers like water on drought-starved plants, and their forest grew again.

His magic was black, providing depth and strength. Hers was green, giving life and agility. And the Underworld was light, giving definition and cohesiveness. It wove them together tighter than before, making them _one_. Small blue-white fruits grew from the branches of their forest, and tears sprung to Hades' eyes. He knew what it meant. The Underworld accepted Persephone as he consort, his Queen, his equal in every way. It joined with them to bless their union. The three of them wrought magic more precious still, seeming to transcend their status as gods and become part of the fabric of _existence_. Was there anything they could _not_ do in that moment? They were in their own world, so entwined were they. He _felt_ it, felt the roles cast for them: himself as father, Persephone as mother, and the Underworld as the fertile cradle to be filled. They had been given stewardship over this realm, and it accepted them as parents and guardians.

They might have stayed forever locked in that sublime plane, but Persephone, as the youngest, began to falter first. Hades and the Underworld worked together to bring her out of the meld and cushion her reentry to the normal world. The forest began to fade around them, but Hades wasn't sad to see it go. It would always reside within him, waiting for when it was needed. He blinked several times as the Underworld left him with a fond farewell. He took a deep breath, and suddenly began panting as if he hadn't breathed for hours. Maybe he hadn't. Who knew what had happened while they were bound together?

Persephone slumped over in near-exhaustion. He gathered her in his arms, curiously tired himself after such an experience. The Underworld and Persephone had both used him as a fulcrum in their magic; it was more than he'd ever channeled before. His muscles felt weak, and his skin was odd, as if it wasn't precisely his own. Persephone raised her head and met his eyes. He missed the meld with her, but in a very tangible way they were still connected. He felt _whole_ for the first time in eons, and it was her presence that made it so.

Elysium knew what Hecate had seen while they were in the trance!

"Well," Hecate said, he voice hushed and awed, "That will be the last time I ask something of the two of you."

"I'll hold you to it," he chuckled dryly.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I'll do something safe and boring, like pearl-diving for carnivorous clams in the Phlegethon." Shaking her head, she left them.

Hades sat back, not feeling up to moving just yet. He was content to hold his goddess and recover his strength.

"We weren't that bad… were we?" Persephone asked.

He grinned. "You have no idea what we did. It's worse than you think."

"Worse?"

He sobered. "The Underworld had accepted you as my equal in every way. Hecate couldn't have predicted that when she set us up."

"Oh," she squeaked, "I… don't know what to do with that. Being your… equal… sounds big."

"It is," he agreed. "But you don't have to do anything with it, not now, at least. Just know the power is available to you, and if you ever decide to use it, I will teach you." It was her right as his future Queen, but he wouldn't push her into anything she wasn't ready for.

"Thank you," she said, "But I feel like I'm already learning everything I can at the moment. Anything more, and my mind will start to melt."

He laughed, and then kissed her. Because he could. She certainly was not complaining.

When they eventually regained their strength, they went to judging. He knew, without a doubt, that the Underworld would let her judge the souls. He said nothing at the moment, not wanting to overwhelm her all at once. He'd already missed a couple of hours, so that meant he'd have to judge through lunch for a day or two to get caught up again. It was worth it, though. To have felt Persephone's magic working on him, to see her at her chores, to play with her, to have the Underworld acknowledge its future Queen… It was worth having to work extra.

In the throne room, Hades was loath to put any distance between himself and his love. Eschewing his throne, he sat in her usual place at the base of it and placed Persephone beside him.

"Hades!" she hissed in protest, glancing around nervously. She couldn't make him rise without causing a scene, and she was unwilling to do that. There were quiet murmurs of surprise around the room at his new position. He ignored it all. So far as he was concerned, choosing Persephone didn't only mean elevating her to his level; he was willing to go to hers as well. He might not spend every judging session like this—it wasn't the most comfortable—but he would choose his love over decorum any day.

The judgements commenced. For the first time… they didn't weigh on him. The effort involved was the same, but he no longer felt flayed by the emotions he hadn't experienced. The difference was the woman at his side. Not only had she broadened his emotional spectrum, but he had the hope of someday feeling the same things as the people he judged. It was one of the few times he felt like a god among mortals, instead of a stranger looking in.

Hades might have been caught up in Persephone's presence, but not so much that he didn't notice an unusually high number of famine victims among the dead. He felt a sting of conscience. While he had been safe in his kingdom, falling in love with Persephone, Demeter had been left to face the other gods on her own. His sister was no fainting light-weight; she was one of the original six Olympians. She'd been hardened in their father's belly, and fought alongside Hades and the others in the titan war.

Still, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to send out a few shades to see how she was doing. If she needed aid, he could offer her solace in the Underworld for a time. If nothing ailed her, he could at least ask for Persephone's hand in marriage. And if, for whatever reason, Demeter was against his union with her daughter, he'd know to begin proving himself to her.

Hades and Persephone judged the dead for about three hours, working through the first part of their usual lunch time. After the morning they'd had, neither felt up to a strenuous horseback riding lesson, and they mutually decided to have a quiet lunch instead. He loved that the silence between them was comfortable. They didn't have to constantly fill the air with noise to feel appreciated by the other. Simply knowing they were together was enough.


	26. Defending Love

**A/N: Hey guys! It's been an embarrassingly long time since I updated! I'm sorry it's been so long! Things have been really hectic in RL. Between the holidays and studying for class, it's been just crazy. I also got caught up in another project for NaNoWriMo (and I made it! 71k words!). The good news is that I take my final on Dec 9th, so after that I hope to get back to a semi-regular schedule again. Probably not weekly, but I'm going to aim for bi-monthly. I promised I wouldn't abandon this story, and I haven't!**

**In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this chapter. You've been waiting for Hades' reaction to Thanatos' lessons for a long time, and here it is!**

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Chapter 27: Defending Love

Thanatos came at his normal time to summon Hades for paperwork. It was yet another thing he would be putting off to spend time with Persephone. He was determined to experience every part of her day.

When Hades informed Thanatos that he would be accompanying them on their rounds, Thanatos blinked in surprise, and then looked resigned. The first part of their tour was through the fields. It went as Hades expected. The workers in the fields ducked their heads and avoided his gaze. Persephone showed a mastery and understanding over the fields that impressed him, even knowing she was the goddess of spring. He knew that while Thanatos was an able manager for the fields, he took no real pleasure in it, unlike Persephone. When she was his Queen, perhaps he could make a gift of the fields to her. It would free Thanatos from the duty, and there was little doubt the Underworld would thrive under her attention.

He did worry about the quality of the spirits sent to the fields, but after the magic they'd made that morning, he knew she could defend herself. It rankled that she might need to do so, but at the same time he knew better than to try to stifle her. She would be his Queen, not a nymph lover to be hidden away in a tower. Her position was more than a name and a place at his side. She would have his authority, his power, his strength. It would be a foolhardy ghost indeed that attempted to take advantage of her. Besides, he could always ask her to take Ceberus with her. His dog could use the exercise, and Ceberus would gladly eat anyone that tried to attack her.

The next part was the mines. Hades clenched his jaw in severe displeasure that Persephone had descended those pits without him to protect her. He found himself glaring at Thanatos' back. He trusted his advisor in many things, but this time the god of death had erred badly. Persephone slipped her hand into his, squeezing lightly. He glanced at her, his anger dissipating at her timid smile. Hades was no fool. He knew what she was doing. She was directing his attention toward herself so he wouldn't be tempted to enact violence on his friend. He still had that fierce desire, but he allowed her to distract him.

Within the mines, he could feel lecherous eyes lingering on his lady. It took everything he had not to overreact. How dare they look so on their future Queen? He wanted to crush those damned souls into the rock around them and leave them trapped and in pain forever. They couldn't die, for they were already dead.

Thanatos walked with his scythe in hand. In the darkness of the mines, Hades appeared to have no shadow at all. It had expended and was hidden in the black corners, felt only as a slithering sensation as it passed the miners. Persephone was in a protected position between the men, but it wasn't enough in his mind.

Hades was dismayed by how comfortable she seemed down here. She brought a certain light to this dismal place. He was of the opinion that nothing down here was worthy to behold her, himself included. He blended too well with the unspoken things here. He feared she would look at him, and realize what a mistake she'd made in accepting his suite. He would be destroyed when she left him. His pain would know no bounds. He found himself putting distance between the beautiful goddess and his disfigured self.

She noticed his absence behind her, and turned to look for him. An expression of pain crossed her lovely face. He felt ashamed to have brought such to her. She walked up to him and touched his face when he would have turned away from her. She took his hand again, holding him firmly even though he was unworthy of her touch. She led the way now, moving through the narrow shafts with a surefooted sense of direction that both awed and alarmed him. Just how far had Thanatos taken her into the dangerous mines?

They emerged into an area of open blackness. He knew where they were. Centuries ago there had been a cave-in, leaving a vast cavern under the surface. The surrounding mines had been abandoned because of instability, and the entire area was dark and ghostly. He didn't know why she had brought him here, unless it was a reflection of the emptiness of his soul.

"Leave us, Lord Thanatos," she said, her voice echoing around them.

"Yes, my lady," Thanatos bowed and retreated.

They were left alone in the deep, hollow space. Hades felt unsettled here. His instinct was to hide, not to stand in the open. He felt more than saw Persephone turn to him.

"Hades," she said softly. She touched him, first his chest, then his face. Her hands ran over him, not arousing so much as comforting. In the darkness, sound and feel was all they had of each other, and she was satisfying her need to make sure he was there. He was amazed that she was touching him at all. Didn't she know what he was?

"I've always wondered what this place looks like," she said, still rubbing slow circles over his body. "There's no point in putting lights down here, and in any case, you're the only one that can show me what it's _really_ like. Can you do that for me? Can you light it up?"

He realized she was talking about when he reached out to the Underworld, and its light shown through the materials around him. It was a simple enough thing she asked. He did it, and the gentle Underworld glow shimmered through the mineral veins in the walls. It revealed what he'd expected. They were in a wrecked chamber, walkways broken and littered with jagged monoliths. The cavern was like him: ruined, abandoned, and ugly.

But that wasn't what Persephone saw. She gasped as she looked around, her eyes wide with wonder. She leaned against him, her back to his chest. She pulled his arms around her until his fingers laced in front of her. Her head tipped back to take it all in, marveling at what was before her.

"Beautiful," she said in a hushed whisper. "So beautiful."

The glimmering mineral-lights shown on her face and skin, and he thought he'd never seen anything so stunning.

"Yes," he agreed hoarsely.

As if reading his mind, her eyes met his. "Beautiful," she repeated reverently, but this time she wasn't looking at the chamber. She turned in his arms and took his face in her hands.

"_My_ Hades," she said with a touch of pride. "So beautiful." And then she drew him down for a kiss.

His arms tightened around her, but the kiss remained light and gentle. In her touch she cleansed him, washed away his fears and insecurities. She didn't see his darkness, his deformed soul. She saw what was good about him, saw the man he was trying to become for her. It wasn't lust and hunger, but exploration and wonder. She called him beautiful, saw the hidden splendor of this place. In her eyes, he became something more than he was.

"I love you," she said fiercely, holding onto him.

"I know," he assured her, no longer fearing she would leave him in the dark. "I love you too."

They kissed for a while longer, until Persephone pulled away with a breathless giggle.

"If we don't stop now, we'll be late for my next lesson," she told him.

"I'm okay with that," he answered, nuzzling into her hair. The Underworld light continued to radiate around them, fueled by his joy. He swooped down to kiss her again. She pushed him way playfully.

"Come on," she teased, "I want to show you my… moves."

The way her voice dipped brought to mind several _moves_, none of which lent themselves to defense. He mock-growled, and she froze in place. For a moment he thought he'd frightened her, then she said, "I love it when you make that noise."

Without warning, she turned and ran away, giving a little giggle over her shoulder. Something hot roared to life within him, and he caught her before she'd taken a dozen paces. He swung her off her feet; she gave a wild peal of laughter. He pulled her against him and gave another growl. He made like he was going to kiss her again, only to pull away and tap her nose with his finger. She gulped, wide-eyed with anticipation.

"Lessons, remember?" he teased.

"Oh, umm," she said, before eventually realizing that he wasn't going to kiss her again. She pouted, then looked around. "Usually Lord Thanatos brings us to an empty field for lessons," she explained at a loss. "I don't suppose you know where he is now?"

Hades asked the Underworld, and it supplied the location in his mind. "He's already waiting for us, I believe," he said. He offered Persephone his hands, and folded her against him as his shadow rose to cover them. He shadow retreated, and they both blinked against the sudden light of being on the surface of the Underworld. It wasn't bright compared to the sun of the mortal world, but it was enough to dazzle their eyes after the mines. In response, the light of the Underworld dimmed until their eyes adjusted.

Persephone grinned t him. "That's a handy trick," she teased.

"You could do it too," he let slip before he thought about it. Her head went back in surprise, but she looked more thoughtful than alarmed.

"Since you're here, I assume you intend to continue with your lessons?" Thanatos asked mildly.

Persephone nodded, turning to him. Something in her posture shifted. Hades didn't like it. He had no worries about her fidelity, but something else bothering her. She was tense and nervous.

"And will you be joining in, my lord?" Thanatos asked.

Hades almost didn't hear him, too focused on Persephone. "No," he said shortly. It was going to be hard enough watching her go through certain moves. He certainly would not be able to raise his hand against her, even in practice.

Thanatos and Persephone faced off. Hades had to fight the urge to step between them. Her expression was anxious. Something was wrong. His shadow shifted restlessly, and he had to concentrate to keep from clenching his fists. He promised himself it would be over soon. How bad could it be? Thanatos knew better than to actually _hurt_ Persephone… didn't he? Without warning Thanatos struck at the maiden. Hades' heart leapt to his throat. He took a step toward them before Persephone successfully repelled the attack. He forced himself to only watch and not interfere.

He cast an experienced eye over the pair, and realized Thanatos was only moving at half-speed. Persephone responded with alacrity, her defenses quick and sure. She was unusually swift for a beginner, as if she were used to a faster opponent. As the bout went on, she relaxed slightly. The tension flowed out of Hades s well. She had this well in hand. It appeared his love was no hapless flower when it came to defending herself. He was almost… disappointed he didn't need to come to her rescue. He loved that she was able to protect herself, but he would have enjoyed being the one she leaned on for support.

And then she grew complacent. She made a mistake. Not much of one, but glaringly obvious to battle-hardened warriors like Hades and Thanatos. She left her side open, faltering just for an instant. Hades winced in reaction, but couldn't really blame her. She was still new, still learning. This wasn't the fields of war where such a mistake would cost her life. However, Thanatos was a lot less forgiving. He stepped into the opening, hammering into her side. He didn't hold back his speed or strength. Persephone stumbled, tried to recover, and Thanatos pressed his advantage mercilessly, knocking her down and landing another hit that would have been fatal to anyone but a goddess. She let out a small cry of pain.

Hades saw red.

He charged forward, fury igniting his limbs. His love was down. Persephone was _down_, and the man responsible was in front of him. Thanatos had no chance to react before Hades' shadow seized him and threw him like a limp doll. That lesser god was crushed to the ground like Persephone had been; Hades was as far above Thanatos in skill and strength as Thanatos was above the goddess. Vengeance roared in his ears as he advanced on the helpless god. Thanatos was struggling to rise, too slow and clumsy to save himself. Hades kicked him viciously in the chest, sending him sprawling again. Thanatos gasped for breath.

"Hades, stop!" Persephone's voice sounded from somewhere far, far away. He felt her hand on his arm, but it was a distant thing.

"You can't kill him," she pleaded desperately. She'd gotten to her feet better than Thanatos, despite the crippling blow. She stood, wincing in pain, but determined to make her point. Unfortunately he was in a place beyond reason, almost beyond words.

"I can kill anyone!" he roared. She didn't even flinch in the face of his temper.

"You shouldn't kill him," she corrected her words, clinging to his arm.

"I shall kill him!" he responded, shaking her off. She grabbed for him again.

"Let him go, Lady Persephone," Thanatos gasped from a kneeling position, not attempting to get to his feet. "I knew what I was courting when I brought you here. You can only get hurt by getting in his way, and he'd never forgive himself."

Her hands fell away. Hades made for the fallen god. His shadow formed a sword in his hand, sharp and deadly. Thanatos remained on his knees, head bowed and neck exposed as if for the headsman's axe. Hades raised his sword, ready to end Death himself. And then Persephone did something, so futile and ridiculous that he almost laughed despite the situation. She grabbed his arm and tried to throw him. Him! The Lord of the Underworld, thrown by a goddess who'd been taking lessons for mere weeks! She did everything perfectly right too. If he hadn't been a warrior tempered by the titan war she might have actually taken him off his feet.

Instead he turned toward her, his body _rippling_ in a way that wasn't possible for someone who hadn't existed as a monster. He encompassed her in his arms. He could have tossed her aside, but he had no desire to hurt her.

"Persephone, stop," he growled, more monster than god at the moment. "You'll hurt yourself."

She paused. "Will you stop trying to kill Lord Thanatos?"

"No," he snarled.

"Then I won't stop." She shoved against him, but was so contained within his grasp it was ineffectual.

He laughed then, a harsh, bitter sound that nevertheless released some of the pent-up anger in his muscles. She peered up at him, then changed her tactics. She put her arms around him, leaning her head on his chest.

"Please," she whispered. "If not for his sake or yours, then for mine. Spare him."

He thought about it. He really did. But Persephone's pain called to him, demanding that the one responsible pay for their crimes.

"No," he answered heavily, knowing that she might turn from him for his actions. "I cannot. Look away if you do not want to see it, but I will not be swayed."

"I won't look away," she swore.

He released her at last and walked back to Thanatos. The god of death remained on his knees.

"Rise," Hades spat at him. "Defend yourself if you will."

"I will not," Thanatos said quietly, not looking up. "I will not raise my hand against my lord."

"Yet you would raise your hand against _her_?" Hades demanded. His voice was dangerously close to breaking.

"Look at her," Thanatos spoke gently. "_Look_ at her. She is not afraid of you."

Hades turned his head to see his love. She was pale, hurt and frightened, but not of him. She came forward and tucked herself under his arm. She'd seen him in a full murderous rage, and she still did not fear him. Thanatos stood, and she flinched. Hades tightened his hold on her.

"I gave her something worse to fear," Thanatos said sadly.

"And that makes it okay?" Hades shouted. Persephone never winced.

"No," Thanatos acknowledged. "I knew my life was forfeit when I dared touch her. I only hoped to give you something before the end."

"It's not enough," Hades glared at Thanatos. "For what you did, it's not enough for me to spare your life."

"I know," Thanatos said simply.

They stood for several minutes. Every part of Hades burned for vengeance against this man. The Underworld was with him, stern and implacable. As far as it was concerned, one of its own had been injured, and it demanded justice. Thanatos awaited his fate, never faltering. Persephone no longer tried to dissuade him, knowing it was a lot cause.

"This farce ends now," Hades didn't realize until he'd spoke than he'd decided to spare the man's life. "You're not teaching her anything, no more than someone learns to draw water from a well by drowning it in," he snarled. What was he doing? He needed to protect his lady, to destroy the one that had hurt his love, not let him walk free.

Thanatos bowed. "Your will be done," he intoned respectfully.

Persephone stirred slightly. "Hades," she said softly, "I know it may not look like it, but I _have_ been learning. I want to continue with lessons.

He shuddered and turned his back on Thanatos so he wouldn't be tempted to eviscerate the god. He faced Persephone and gingerly cupper her face with his palms. It amazed him that he could touch her with the same hands that had been ready to commit gruesome murder, and she didn't wince.

"If you want to take _real_ defense lessons, then I will find you an instructor," he promised. And he would supervise lessons until he was sure she wasn't being abused again. Maybe he could find several spirits who also wished to learn to defend themselves, that way she could practice against other with a similar skill level.

"Thanatos," he growled, "You will not lay a hand on my lady again. Or I will _end_ you." He spoke with quiet conviction that was more frightening than a roar.

"Understood, my lord," Thanatos agreed.


	27. Taking a Stand

**A/N: Merry Christmas! I'm sorry for the long delay. I know I said I'd have more frequent updates... and then my computer broke! I just got it back, and I worked hard to get you this chapter by Christmas! (It's still Christmas for another 2 hours where I live, so it totally counts!) The end is approaching, as you'll be able to tell in this chapter. We're not quite there yet, but it will happen!**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and followed this story despite my long absence!**

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Chapter 27: Taking a Stand

Needless to say, the lesson with Thanatos did not continue. Hades brought Persephone to the arena where they had riding lessons. He showed her a few defense moves, and encouraged her to demonstrate what she knew. It hurt his heart to see how nervous and jumpy she was. She wasn't afraid of him, but she'd been condition that these lessons brought pain. It was hard for her to get over that expectation. It would take weeks to undo the damage that'd been done to her.

Despite that, she was naturally light and quick on her feet, and agile as well. He felt like a lumbering beast next to a stinging fly. He did not attack Persephone—could not force himself to make a move toward her—but he allowed her to take the offensive against him. He was proud of how well she did. He was able to block her strikes, but her aim was true.

Eventually, Persephone was the one to declare a halt to their session.

"It's time for us to meet Charon," she reminded him, her face lighting up at the thought of the other god. Hades fought down a jealous surge. He knew he had her heart, but it was hard not to wonder at the evident bond between the two, especially given his own animosity with the ferryman. He hadn't seen Charon for years. He could happily go several more years without seeing him.

He briefly considered begging off to catch up on paperwork—anything was better than meeting with Charon—but the look on Persephone's face was bright and excited as she asked, "Can I be the one to tell him about us being together? He'll be so happy for us!"

Hades sincerely doubted that someone who spent all his time reminding people about the monster he'd been would be giving his felicitations. Nevertheless, he gave his consent. Anything to bring Persephone joy. He took them to the foggy bank of the Styx and waited for Charon's boat to arrive. Persephone was all by bouncing on her toes in excitement. It was hard to begrudge her that, even if Charon was the cause. He resolved to keep a civil tongue in his head and say as little as possible to the other man. In the future, he could relegate all interactions with Charon to Persephone, since she seemed to like the other god so much.

"There he is," she said eagerly as the boat landed on the shore near them. Hades felt a corresponding drop in his stomach. He didn't want to be here.

Persephone waved enthusiastically at Charon. He grinned and waved back, then blanched when he saw Hades. The Lord of the Underworld felt the same. Persephone took Hades' hand and tugged him forward. He followed reluctantly.

"Charon, guess what?" she called out. "Hades and I are courting!"

Despite Hades' dislike of the ferryman, Charon seemed genuine in his compliments.

"Congratulations!" Charon gave her a hug, then cautiously extended his hand to Hades. Hades stared at it for a long moment. Persephone looked back and forth between them, her smile fading. Hades kicked himself, and forced himself to take Charon's hand. It wouldn't kill him to be polite.

"Thank you," he said stiffly. They both let go quickly.

Persephone was already climbing into Charon's boat. "Here's the papers," she called. "This is what I do for Charon, Hades. I transcribe his stories."

"_What_?" Hades demanded, turning his eyes on Charon. He'd been prepared to overlook his love's friendship with the other god _and_ the things he'd told her. But this… Charon didn't answer, staring down at his feet.

"You did this?" Hades challenged, his voice rising in fury. "When I have forbidden your stories from being written down?"

"It was my idea, Hades," Persephone hurriedly got off the boat and walked to him. "You can't blame Charon for this."

Hades turned disbelieving eyes on her.

Charon raised his head at last, his expression desperate and defiant. "It was my idea," he declared. "I suggested it, knowing you had forbidden it."

Hades felt his rage growing. How _dare_ his vassal defy him so?

"Charon!" Persephone gasped.

Hades spared her a glance. She was staring at Charon with complete surprise. Upon seeing it, he knew which of them had lied. As much as he _hated_ his tortured past written down for all and sundry to mock his pain, he had to admire Charon's attempt to protect Persephone.

"Why?" he gritted out through clenched teeth. "Why would you allow this?"

"Because I love you!" Charon suddenly burst out.

Hades reeled back in shock. He hadn't expected that. Persephone stared at her friend with wide eyes, as unknowing as Hades.

Charon sighed, hanging his head. "Not—not like she loves you," he explained haltingly. "Like a father, I love you. You have to understand, before you came here everything was pain and burning. And then you came, and you tamed this realm. You built it to be more than it was."

"I was a monster," Hades whispered, struggling to understand what Charon saw in him.

"You overcame it," Charon responded. "If all gods had a quarter of your restraint, there would cease to be wars between them. _That's_ why I don't want to forget your past, Father. Because you rose above it, because you saved us all."

Charon sagged as of he'd lost his strength. He offered his wrists to Hades in an unmistakable gesture of surrender. Persephone looked at Hades, her face as shocked as his must have been. Her eyes pleaded for him to be lenient. All this time, and he never suspected that Charon told his stories not to belittle him, but to _honor_ him. How could he not forgive that?

He stepped toward his ferryman. Charon flinched, expecting punishment. Hades gathered Charon in his arms, and held the… son he never thought he had.

"I have you," Hades said awkwardly. "I'm not… I can't be angry at you for that. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"You were so opposed to any mention of your past… I didn't think you would understand even for those reasons. I look up to you. I always have."

And Hades had driven the man away relentlessly, horrified that Charon was set on repeating everything that Hades had reluctantly told him. Little did he know that it was out of admiration instead of scorn. Persephone came up to them and hugged them both.

"You should have said something," she said. "I could have spoken to Hades for you."

"I would have listened to her," Hades added with a chuckle. "She's prettier than you."

Charon smiled. "You listened now. That's what counts."

They straightened.

"I'll be on my duties," Charon said, heading toward his boat.

Persephone tugged on Hades' arm, but she didn't have to prompt him. They followed.

"We'll go with you," Hades said, climbing into the boat and helping his love in.

Charon made to shove off, but Hades stopped him and took the barge pole instead. The ferryman sat next to Persephone as Hades brought them into the river. She sighed and pouted at him.

"I was never strong enough to do that," she complained.

Hades and Charon exchanged a look. "It's not about strength," Hades explained. "It's about will. I do the motion because I enjoy it. Touch the river and ask it to take you to the other side." He pulled the boat to a halt.

Somewhat doubtfully, she leaned over and put her hand in the water. The boat rocked as the current caught it and began to guide it along. Charon's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"The Underworld has accepted her," Hades said with pride.

Charon bowed to Persephone. "My Queen," he said teasingly.

"Stop it," she laughed, pushing him to his balance wavered.

Hades shook his head at their playful banter, and resumed poling the boat across the Styx. They reached the far shore. Charon looked to Hades to see if the older god wanted to take precedence. Hades deferred to Charon with a shake of his head. The ferryman looked proud that his hero had deferred to him. He moved to the side of his boat and began collecting coins. As always, there were a few without coins, those who had not been buried with the proper rites. Usually Hades overlooked them; they were not his concern. But Persephone was watching them wistfully. He could _feel_ her compassion for them, and it changed his mind.

He rose and stepped over the edge of the boat, landing in damp sand. The spirits drew back from him uncertainly. Charon and Persephone watched him. From his pockets, he drew over a handful of gemstones taken from his mines. They weren't coins as such, and were mere baubles, really. But they had worth, and he offered them to the spirits. They drew closer out of curiosity. He picked a small, pale blue amazonite and held it out to the ghost of a young boy. The child took it, but didn't seem to know what to do with it, until Hades gestured at Charon. The boy timidly passed the stone to the ferryman, who welcomed the young ghost onto the boat.

The other souls pressed forward, suddenly understanding what he was offering them: hope. Redemption. One by one they took a gemstone from his hand and presented it to Charon. None were greedy, seeking the largest gems or trying to take more than one. They seemed to know that this precious second chance could be taken from them as easily as it was given. Some of the ghosts were wispy things that had lain on the river bank for centuries, with barely enough substance to pick up the smallest stones.

Eventually all the souls were loaded, and Hades got back on the boat. There was an awed, hushed reverence over the crowd. Even Charon and Persephone stared at him in wonder. He felt rather embarrassed by it. He hadn't done anything miraculous, or world-changing. He'd only shown a bit of kindness to the stranded souls. It humbled him. If something that cost him nothing made such a reaction in others, what would happen if he made an effort?

Charon offered him the pole, and Hades took it. It was silent as he pushed off. Persephone looked from him to Charon expectantly. She was used to hearing a story at this time. Charon asked with a silent lift of his eyebrows if Hades wanted him to speak. Hades shook his head. His past was… painful, and there were many parts that he didn't want to revisit. But know knowing that Charon's stories were to venerate instead of vilify, he didn't mind them as much. And maybe, there were certain things he could say without causing too much pain.

The story he chose for this time was the creation of the Underworld. Not the burning, not the moments when he'd fought to punish himself as much as the realm. But after. When he'd begun to _create_. That he could talk about, and did. The boat listen with rapt attention, even Charon and Persephone. He didn't understand it. Surely they'd heard the tale before? Charon must have told it thousands of times while crossing the Styx. And Persephone must have heard him, perhaps had written it down. The only difference now was in the storyteller. He knew he was not such a good speaker as to hold them enraptured.

It came to him slowly that the reason they listened was because his story was the first. The original. He'd _been_ there, had shaped these things with his own hands and will. This wasn't a story told of someone else's deeds. They were his, and somehow others attributed more worth to it because of that. It didn't seem to him that he'd done any great thing. They were making him a hero when he wasn't one. But maybe… it didn't matter what he thought of it. It was only important what _they_ thought. And they thought he was… a god. Not a monster. Another scar of his damaged soul twinged in pain… as it healed. It was cathartic, and he felt lighter afterward.

His voice faltered for a moment, and his eyes fell on Persephone. She looked at him in concern. Was she determined to heal every part of his life? It was all her doing. Without her he would have never reconciled with Charon. Would have never learned to see himself as more than a monster. He was so profoundly _grateful_ to her that his eyes burned with tears. Persephone rose form her seat and went to him. He let the river take them as he shipped the pole and wrapped his arms around her.

"I love you," he whispered, and kissed her sweetly. It wasn't passion; it was gratitude. She was his salvation. He held her tightly the rest of the voyage.

They crossed over a few more times that day. Each time Hades paid the passage for the less fortunate souls himself, and then he would select a relatively painless part of his past to speak about. He allowed Charon to guide them, in favor of holding his love against his heart. The stories he told were rambling and out of order, but no one complained.

When it was time for dinner, Hades and Persephone left the boat, and Charon prepared to go across again. Hades reached out with his shadow to stop the boat.

"You're having dinner with us," he announced firmly.

Charon's face brightened. "Truly?"

Hades took his arm. "I—_We'd_ be glad to have you back, and I'm sorry to be the cause of your absence for so long."

Charon bowed his head. "Thank you, my lord. Thank you… Father."

Impulsively Hades pulled him close and kissed the top of his head. Charon looked both pleased and bashful. They went to dinner by way of Charon's coins. Hades could have used his shadow to move them, but he was still leery of using his shadow magic on anyone but Persephone.

When they arrived in the parlor, Hecate and Thanatos were shocked to see Charon with them. They looked from Hades to Charon at first in alarm, and then outright confusion as they saw that Hades was no longer at odds with the ferryman. For his part, Hades didn't feel like explaining everything that had happened on the shore of the Styx. It was enough that Charon was once again one of his trusted advisors, and that Persephone had brought it about.

Dinner was more boisterous than usual with the addition of Charon. His cheerful exuberance made a good counterpoint to Hecate's wicked laughter, and Thanatos' dour expression. He sat on Persephone's other side, and it was clear he brought out the best in her. Now that Hades had set aside his jealousy, he could see how their interactions were both playful and platonic.

There was one other important difference that Hades noticed in Charon's behavior: he was Persephone's friend first. While Hecate and Thanatos treated the young goddess with respect, there was a certain distance that precluded true friendship. With Charon, there was no distance. They spoke and teased each other, often breaking into laughter. She was more relaxed, more open with Charon present. She was more confident in herself. Furthermore, Charon was another person who would defend her without hesitation. Hecate and Thanatos would protect Persephone because she was important to Hades. But if they had to choose between her and Hades, they would choose him every time. Charon would pick her. It was a small detail, but a significant one. Hades cursed himself that he had wasted so much time with Charon, not only for his son's sake, but for Persephone's.

After dinner, Hades collected Persephone, and they went to his study. He sat on the couch and she lay against him. She was drowsy with contentment, her body warm and pliant against his. He held her in his arms, his hand stroking the silky softness of her skin. She stirred against him.

"Thank you for coming with me today," she murmured.

"It was my pleasure," he replied, meaning it. He was glad that he'd gone with her, that he'd gone with her, that he'd learned the rhythm of her day as she had learned his. He felt complete with her by his side.

It was like that for the next few weeks. Now that he knew what Persephone was doing during the day, they compared notes on what they'd done. She always had new questions to ask. Even though she had excellent teachers in the form of Hecate, Thanatos and Charon, Hades remained the foremost authority on the Underworld. He didn't mind her questions. On the contrary, he was delighted by them. Though he'd yet to propose, she was still preparing to take her place as his Queen. His joy in her was absolute.

And yet, other things tried to intrude on their happiness. The servants he'd sent out to find Demeter came back empty-handed. Every week, more and more people were dying form cold or starvation. Something was wrong with Demeter. Hades didn't try to hide it from Persephone. They both became worried about Demeter.

He sent out stronger spirits, and instructed them to look everywhere for the goddess. One by one, they came back exhausted and clueless. Weeks went by. It became harder to collect food from the mortal realm. Previously everyone at the table had enjoyed the bounty of mortal food, but now it was reserved only for her. Even then the offerings became spare. Hades hated seeing her dine on increasingly thinner broths, as if she was a prisoner here. She might not die from starvation, but it was hardly a comfortable thing for her to go without. Hades, thought the harvest from the Underworld had not diminished, also refrained from eating. She chided him about it, but he honestly didn't feel hungry when he saw how little there was for her.

What he _felt_ was anger. Something had happened to Demeter. She wasn't dead, for that would have triggered a far worse cataclysmic event. He would have _known_ if one of his siblings had died. So if she wasn't dead, she was otherwise affected. She might have done this on purpose, but he thought not. She knew where her daughter was. If she missed Persephone, or wanted her back, then she knew how to reach them. No, his instincts told him that his sister had been unwillingly detained.

She was one of the original six Olympians. There were very few that could hold the powerful goddess for any length of time. He had his suspicions as to who it could be, and his fury against them grew. He would, if need be, search every corner of the skies himself for the missing goddess, and he didn't particularly care who he pissed off in the process. He'd been a monster once upon a time. Persephone had largely absolved him of that burden, but he would become one again if needed to save the mother of his love.

He was almost ready to go off by himself, consequences be damned, when his last messenger returned. This one did not come back empty-handed. Indeed, they brought word of Demeter. She was found at last. Upon hearing the news his messenger had of the goddess, Hades wanted to fly into a rage. Only the fact that he'd need his wits about him to break into Zeus' sky palace kept him from giving vent to his anger. As it was, he ordered his armor made ready, and Phlegethon and Cerberus prepared as well. There would be Tartarus to pay. He went in search of the one person he knew who could calm him down.

Persephone was in the middle of her new self-defense lesson. He'd found a grizzled, old veteran of war who'd been willing to train others in favor of a listless existence in Asphodel. There were several people in the class, all women, most of whom had been abused in some way during their lives. These lessons in death gave them a sense of empowerment they'd died without. Persephone did a variety of mentoring and learning in the class. She did well with a better teacher, and was patient in teaching the timid spirits how to defend themselves. Hades had made it clear to the soldier that at the first hint of abuse or undo force against the women, and it would be the flames of Tartarus for him. Hades had watched the lessons over the last several weeks, bot openly and covertly, and was pleased with the soldier's methods. He didn't go easy on them, but neither did he seek to purposely hurt them.

Now Hades appeared by shadow-magic in the middle of the group. There were startled exclamations and hasty bows around him, except for one person. His eyes sought Persephone. She tossed her staff to another student and went to him. Her expression was fearful as she searched his face.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly. She bit her lip. "My mother—"

He forced his voice to be gentle as he said, "Let's go elsewhere."

She stepped into his embrace, and he brought them to his study. His armor was usually kept in his room, but it had been brought out for him. His shadow and Persephone took the place of servants as he began to don the armor. He told her about Demeter kept in Zeus' sky palace.

"But why?" she asked. "How could he do that and let so many people suffer?"

Hades had an idea of what Zeus would want of Demeter, but he kept silent so he wouldn't distress Persephone with his conjectures.

"I'm going to pull her out of there if I have to bring down the palace myself," he vowed. "Demeter has suffered long enough at his hands."

She blanched. "If you go against Zeus, it could be war."

"So be it," he said grimly. He'd let his younger brothers run rampant long enough. It was time someone opposed them.

"Hades," she cried, "Zeus has the power of the skies behind him."

"And I have the first of Tartarus," he replied grimly, trying to reassure her. He did not go off to war lightly, not when he had more to live for than ever before. Persephone, his love, the Queen of his heart, soon to be the Queen of his realm. But this was important. People were suffering, dying, and would continue to do so unless someone confronted Zeus.

Hades finished putting on his armor. It was made of metal that had been molten from the depths of the world, and hardened with the fires of Tartarus and the Phlegethon. It was blackened, scratched and scarred, but still strong and impervious. The armor conjured bad memories of its own, but he was resolute in his path. He held hands with Persephone as they walked down to the stable. Her fingers felt delicate in his armored gloves.

In the stable, Phlegethon and Cerberus had been fitted with barding of their own.

"Hades," Persephone called as he moved to mount his mare. "Be careful." She kissed him desperately.

"I will," he promised. "I'll bring your mother home with me."

"Just make sure you come back. I love you."

"I love you too."

With his lips still burning from Persephone's kiss, Hades vaulted to Phlegethon's back and took off, Cerberus running by their sides.


	28. Consuming the Underworld

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for sticking with me! I just barely made this update... First, I got sick with this really nasty head cold that makes my head pound and my brain turn to mush. My ribs hurt from coughing, my ears are plugged, my lips are bleeding, and I have no sense of taste. All very fun. I know, TMI.**

**And THEN... I lost the pages of the story that I'd already written down, at least 3 pages and half of my current place in the story, so about 3.5 pages total. Probably at least half a chapter's worth. I've been trying to recreate it, but it's hard and I have the nagging feeling that what I replaced it with is not nearly as good as what I first wrote down. But I will keep working on it!**

**Finally, I think (even before I lost the pages), that there is only one, at most two chapters left of this story. I have it all plotted out in my head, and I was almost to the beginning of the final confrontation when I lost the pages. So I have to work my way back to that point, but I don't think it's going to be much longer.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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Demeter wondered if it were possible for an immortal to freeze to death. She couldn't feel her limbs anymore. Supposedly gods couldn't die, but she had a feeling she was flirting closer to death than she ever had before. Hadn't the Olympians overthrown their parents, the immortal titans? And hadn't the titans in turn rebelled against their own ancestors? Maybe it was a cycle that would never be ended. It would be a great irony if Hades came to claim her before Zeus was finished with her.

Then again, it seemed that Zeus had forgotten her. Or… it was hard to tell. Because sometimes it seemed to her that he came. He brought her food, clothes, took her away from that dismal cell. Other times he asked questions, and hit her when she didn't answer. Each time she lost consciousness—either to delicious warmth or unending pain—she woke again in the cell. So she was pretty sure they were both delusions.

She had a lot of delusions, these days.

She saw Persephone. He beautiful daughter looked strong and carefree. Or she cried, beaten and distraught. Still other times she was heartrendingly still and lifeless, causing Demeter to cry out in grief and terror. Not that she had the strength to cry out anymore. Hades was also a frequent visitor to her delusions. He stood over her, shook his head and faded away into the shadows. Or he watched with a smirk as Zeus mauled her, like this was payment for all the years she'd left him to rot in his empty world.

"I'm sorry," she tried to gasp. "I'm so sorry." If those were to be her last words, she wanted to at least apologize to her brother.

The door to her cell opened. It was all she could do to turn her eyes in that direction. Usually her delusions simply appeared in her prison, like dreams that had no beginning. She knew instantly this was going to be one of her nightmares. Hades came in, wearing his terrifying armor from the titan war, all dark spikes rusted with old blood.

"S-s-s," she tried to speak, to apologize.

He looked at her with flat, dead eyes. It was terrifying and at the same time made her feel utterly helpless. If there had been a drop of moisture left in her body, she would have cried at the futility of it. As it was, her tears were as frozen as the rest of her. But there was… something in his eyes. Something unexpected. A faint glimmer of… pity? Compassion? Whatever it was, it wasn't something she was used to associating with her eldest brother.

There was a time when her pride would have scorned such emotion, or she would have felt shame. Now she was so broken, so far removed from what she had been, that all she felt was gratitude. Hades knelt by her. Behind him, she could see his gigantic, three-headed hell-beast, guarding his back. He reached for her, and she began to wonder if this really was a delusion. Maybe she'd died, and the Lord of the Underworld really had come to escort her to his realm. He picked her up, and she was so cold that his touch seemed to burn. He carried her at a fast clip, ducking out of her cell. Her delusions never left the cell. Even when she'd dreamed that Zeus had changed his mind, it was a sudden transition from cell to not-cell, not walking out of it one step at a time. So was so giddy she felt like laughing. She'd been in that cell for so long that going elsewhere was a treat for her senses.

They reached one of Hades' Nightmares. It snorted fire and dripped blood, and now Demeter knew this was no delusion: she would have never imagined a Nightmare! Was this death, then? She would have thought death to be a bit warmer. Had Hades come to give his last respects? Was this a personal service he provided to fallen deities?

He somehow got onto the Nightmare's back without using his hands. The instant he was settled, the Nightmare leapt forward, with the evident goal of unseating him. Demeter would have fallen even if she'd been in the prime of health and expecting the move, but Hades never wavered. He held her against him, keeping them secure as the Nightmare plunged ahead recklessly. She'd never been in such close contact with her eldest brother. It was uncomfortable, but she didn't have the strength to protest or push him away.

Her heart leapt to her throat as they suddenly plummeted. She could take no more, and blackness fell.

Demeter woke slowly, as if out of a bad dream. Something seemed off to her. She was warm for one, and laying on something soft. The only thing that kept her from thinking this was a fevered wish was the hollow hunger in her stomach. She was never hungry in her dreams. She didn't know where she was. Part of her wondered if she had lost all grip on reality, and she was still in Zeus' cold cell.

There was a rustle of cloth, and a sweet voice asked, "Mother?"

That voice! She _knew_ that voice, would still recognize it if she was dead or deaf. Demeter opened gummy eyes to see Persephone, her beautiful daughter. Immediately her eyes began to burn. She didn't have any tears to shed, but her eyes tried. Persephone wiped her face clean with a soft cloth, then helped her drink a glass of water. The liquid was soothing and nourishing all at once. She could feel her body rejuvenating after her long deprivation.

As soon as she could, she raised her hand to Persephone's face. Her daughter leaned into her hand. Demeter reveling in the touch.

"How?" she croaked in a rusty voice.

"Ha—Lord Hades found you in Lord Zeus' sky palace, and brought you here."

"Where?"

"This is the Underworld."

Normally Demeter would have felt great alarm to be in the kingdom of the dead, but she was just grateful not to be with Zeus any longer. Except in they were in the Underworld…

"Dead?" she asked fearfully. She'd half-expected it in her case, but if Persephone was here as well…

And her daughter laughed in response. It transformed her, made her into the little girl Demeter had raised.

"No, Mom," she said warmly. "We're not dead."

There was a knock on the door, and what looked like the ghost of a young woman entered the room, carrying a bowl of warm broth. It wasn't much, but it might as well have been ambrosia for how it tasted. Persephone helped her sit up and drink the broth. Then Demeter fell back into a dreamless sleep.

The next time she woke, she felt stronger and more aware of her surroundings. She remembered where she was, and how she had gotten there. Hades had rescued her, though it seemed far away and dream-like in her mind.

Demeter looked around curiously. She was in a room decorated is browns and golds, reminding her of sun-ripened wheat. She immediately felt a longing to feel the sun on her skin. The place within her where her powers resided still felt cold. The world was no longer draining itself to sustain her, but the damage still needed to be healed. The room surprised her, both in its beauty and that its Underworld designer would know the precise shade of afternoon sun on the seed-heads.

Persephone was dozing in a chair by the bed. Demeter took the opportunity to study her daughter. Persephone had both grown leaner and filled out. The youthful roundness of her face was gone, but at the same time the curves of her breasts and hips were more pronounced. She had matured down here in the Underworld. And yet, Demeter knew with a mother's intuition that her daughter was still an innocent. Hades had not violated Persephone, but neither had they consummated any relationship they might have developed. What had they been doing all this time, knitting scarves?

Persephone stirred and woke up. She jumped when she saw Demeter watching her. "Oh, Mom, I'm sorry," she said.

"Not a problem dear, I was just looking at you," Demeter replied. "You're so beautiful."

"Thank you," Persephone smiled.

"Tell me about yourself," Demeter insisted. "What have you been doing? I want to know everything!"

Persephone's face brightened, and she launched into an excited recitation of her time in the Underworld. Demeter didn't understand half of it—chores, magic, gardens, mines and rivers in the Underworld?—but it was clear that Persephone had been busy, and loved every moment of it. The one thing she did not talk about, Demeter noted, was the master of the realm. Surely she had some interactions with Hades? It had not escaped Demeter's notice that her daughter had started to use his name familiarly, and then corrected herself. Persephone was avoiding any mention of Hades on purpose, and Demeter was determined to find out why.

"But what about Hades?" she asked innocently. "Haven't you seen him at all?"

Persephone abruptly stopped talking and looked away. Her face grew pink. "Ha—Lord Hades had been an excellent host in every way," she said quietly.

"But what do you think of him?" Demeter _knew_ her daughter was hiding something.

Persephone frowned at Demeter without answering. "What happened to you, Mom? How come Zeus had you trapped in his palace?"

It was Demeter's turn to avert her eyes. How could she tell her daughter that it was because of her? Besides, she had the dreadful feeling this reprieve from Zeus was temporary. Hades had rescued her from Zeus, but she couldn't heal the earth from here. As soon as she returned to the mortal realm, she would be vulnerable again. She shivered. She realized she was going to have to tell Hades everything, and hope he had a plan to stop Zeus. It was time to see her eldest brother.

"I don't want to say it more than once," she said carefully, "And I think Hades should hear this. Do you know where he is?"

Persephone nodded. "Lord Hades said he wanted to talk to you, and he'd invited us to his study."

Demeter thought it interesting that her daughter could speak with such authority about Hades, but she was filled with dread about telling them her ordeal. Persephone helped her rise. Her body had wasted away during her imprisonment, and she had to lean heavily on the younger goddess as they made their wat to Hades' study. Demeter distracted herself by nothing that Persephone never hesitated in her path. Evidentally the way the to the study was well-known to her.

There was a large fire in the study's fireplace when they reached the room. It made the room stuffy, but Demeter basked in the warmth. She tried to send what little energy she'd regained back to the world that had supported her, but she simply didn't have much to spare. Persephone seated her on the couch in front of the fire, and piled her with blankets.

"Thank you," Demeter caught her daughter's hand. "I'll be alright."

Persephone grinned sheepishly, and sat on the couch. They didn't wait long before more ghostly servants entered with a meal. The notion of dead people for servants was creepy to Demeter, but Persephone didn't appear bothered by it. She must have grown accustomed to all kinds of dead people in the Underworld. The elder goddess was insulted that Persephone was eating the same broth as she was.

"Food is scarce, we make due," she said with a shrug.

Demeter wondered at the use of _we_. The meal was finished and more dead maids removed the trays. As they left the room, Hades entered. Even though the fire was still burning brightly, she felt a sudden chill in the air. Persephone glanced at him when he first came in, and then stared at her hands. In that single look, Demeter thought she might have detected a certain longing or tenderness. So her daughter wasn't nearly as indifferent to Hades as she was pretending. What of Hades?

She studied her brother closely. His shadow filled half the room, until he noticed Demeter staring, and he altered it into a human form. That wasn't much better, for the shadow only loosely followed his form. She looked at his face only to find herself to subject of intense scrutiny. She felt another shiver rip down her spine. He watched her with his dull, death-shroud eyes, his expression utterly devoid of feeling. She doubted herself. Could anything, even Persephone, pierce his stern demeanor? She looked away quickly, afraid of peering too deeply into his eyes and reading her own demise. She was glad he stayed in the far corner of the room.

"Mom," Persephone touched her arm, gaining her attention. "Why don't you tell us what happened?"

Once again Demeter was intrigued by the use of _us_, but she was less certain after seeing her brother. There didn't seem to be any softness on his side. She told her story of her pursuit and capture by Zeus and Poseidon. She glossed over some of the less pleasant details, both because she didn't want to relive them, and also to spare Persephone. She wasn't sure she was fooling either of them. Hades knew the circumstances in which he'd pulled her from, and her daughter had been tending her sickbed. Persephone's face showed horror at Demeter's treatment, while Hades' remained unmoved and grim. Demeter wondered how her daughter had been able to stand living here from months with such a silent companion.

"But why?" Persephone burst out when Demeter was done. "Why would Lord Zeus do that and cause so many people to suffer?"

Demeter didn't answer. She looked to Hades for support, but he wasn't forthcoming. Unfortunately, her hesitation was enough for her daughter to figure it out on her own.

"It was me," she whispered in horror. "You wouldn't tell him where I was, so he _tortured_ you!"

"No, Persephone," Demeter began.

"It's all my fault." Tears welled up in the younger goddess' eyes. "All those people have been dying because of me!"

"No!" A new voice spoke up for the first time: Hades.

"It was _not_ your fault," he snarled, shifting from his post in the corner of the room to crouch in front of her. Always before it seemed to Demeter that he walked with a pained stiffness, as if he might fly apart at any moment. Now he moved with a swift, smooth assurance. His shadow encircled the young goddess as if to devour her. Demeter flinched, but Persephone took a handful of the shadow-stuff as if to draw comfort from it.

"_None_ of this is your fault," Hades declared, bracing his arms on either side of the couch to trap her. Demeter would have panicked to have the powerful god so close to her, but Persephone leaned into his dark form.

"This had _nothing_ to do with you," he snarled fiercely. "This is my brother acting like a child because he cannot get what he wants." He brushed his fingers down her cheek in an uncharacteristically tender gesture. Demeter watched with great interest. Persephone's eyes were wide and unseeing. She was trembling, clearly terrified.

"I have to go back," she whimpered. "To make him stop, I have to give myself to him…"

Hades stopped her by the expedient method of sealing his mouth to hers. He kissed Persephone, and it was no simple, chaste touch. Demeter's eyebrows shot up and threatened to fly off her face altogether. _This_ was the evidence of the relationship that she had been hoping for. This kiss spoke of familiarity and passion. It was not the first time they'd done, and it was as much to comfort as to express desire. It wasn't just lust, but also care for each other. It was slow, deliberate, refusing to give quarter. Persephone's fingers went to his hair, holding him to her. Hades put his arms around her, supporting her.

The kiss went on long enough to be indecent with an audience, even though there was no movement to deepen it. Demeter was secretly doing a gleeful dance inside, but she forced herself to look stern as she cleared her throat sharply.

They broke off, but didn't separate. They remained together, eyes closed, foreheads touching in a way that was somehow more intimate than the kiss had been.

"Is there something I should know about?" Demeter asked archly.

Hades straightened without releasing Persephone, so that he picked her up when he stood. He cradled her to his chest. She curved into him naturally, looking very comfortable in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. Demeter was struck by how well they fit together, the powerful god and the lithe goddess. Persephone had found her match, and so had Hades.

Hades fixed Demeter with a severe look. "Only that I love Persephone," he announced boldly. "I've been courting her, and I intent to make her my Queen."

Demeter's every wish was fulfilled. It was more than she'd ever dreamed for Persephone! She looked to her daughter to make sure this was what she wanted. Persephone was giving him a soft look of surprise. Not that he loved her, Demeter realized, but that he was taking her as his equal. His face gentled as he looked down at the goddess in his arms.

"I love you, Persephone," he said tenderly. "Will you marry me?"

Demeter was utterly touched to witness this part of their relationship. She didn't know when or for how long they'd been courting, but her heart squeezed tightly at seeing the culmination of it. She was almost afraid to breathe and break the sanctity of the moment.

Persephone let out a sob as she hugged him tightly. "Yes, Hades," she gasped with joyful tears. "I love you. I will be your wife."

"My Queen," he corrected softly. "My equal in every way." He kissed her again, lingering but not drawing it out to unseemliness. He looked up and fixed Demeter with a challenging stare. "What say you?" he demanded.

"Look at you," Demeter said quietly. "Look at you together. How can I say no to that?"

Hades relaxed.

Persephone gave her mother a shy glance. "Thank you, Mom," she said. "I know Hades might not be who you wanted for me, but he's a good man. He makes me happy." And she smiled lovingly at the man she'd chosen.

"I was hoping something like this might happen," Demeter confessed, "Granted, I didn't expect it to… progress this far—" Her daughter, Queen of the Underworld! "—but I knew that in order to protect you from Zeus, Hades would have to take a personal interest."

Hades tensed for a moment, but then her brother seemed to decide against taking offence. Persephone shuddered at the reminder of the god-king who was obsessed with her. She looked at her newly declared fiancé.

"Can we get married as soon as we deal with him?" she asked plaintively.

"No." Demeter and Hades spoke at the same time. The elder goddess quickly deferred to her brother.

"You are _mine_, Persephone," Hades rumbled. "I'll not let him set a finger on you. In the meanwhile, I intend to lay every possible claim on you. The faster we are wed, the better. When we face Zeus, it will be with you as my Queen, with the power of the Underworld to back you."

"What he said," Demeter agreed. "And I have one more idea to thwart Zeus. Is that a bowl of fruit over there?"

Hades and Persephone stirred with identical unease.

"Yes, but it's from the Underworld," Persephone said. "If you're hungry, we can order food from the kitchen."

"Just humor me," Demeter said. "Get me a fruit?"

Hades set his bride down on the couch, then walked to the side table to fetch one of the fruits. He handed it to Demeter as he sat next to Persephone. The younger goddess shifted closer to him until he put his arm around her and drew her on his lap again. Only then did she appear content. Demeter watched them with a pang of envy. They had what she didn't: real love, tolerant and kind.

Only when they were settled did Demeter look down at the fruit she held. It was a pomegranate. It felt strange in her hands. She could see it, feel it, smell it, but it didn't register as a living thing to her goddess senses. Where she should have been able to touch the fruit with her powers, there was nothing. More than nothing: it was an _absence_ of life. She rolled the pomegranate between her hands, then offered it to Persephone.

"If you eat the fruit of the Underworld, you'll be bound to it forever," Demeter said simply.

Persephone's eyes lit in understanding, and she reached for the pomegranate. Hades was faster than either of them, and plucked it from their hands.

"No," he said firmly. "Not like this. You'll be tied to this world for eternity."

"And I won't be tied to it by marrying you?" Persephone countered. "I'm not already bound just for loving you?" She was no longer the timid maiden clinging to her intended, but a powerful goddess determined to get her way. She placed her hands on his face.

"Hades," she pleaded steadily. "There isn't anywhere else I'd rather be for eternity than in this realm, by your side. I choose this. I choose _you_."

She took the pomegranate from him. Her nails bit into the hard outer rind as she split it open. Red juice from broken seeds stained the white meat of the fruit. Hades sat stiffly as she carefully plucked out six seeds, ripe and full of their tart juice. Demeter admired her brother's control. Clearly he desired Persephone very much. At the same time, it was clear he wouldn't force her to stay with him. This was a statement on her part, that she was choosing him forever. She put the seeds in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

Demeter could _see_ something enter her daughter, something ancient, and powerful. Dark, but not sinister. Primal and untamed. It changed everything about her, made her more than she was, gave her knowledge beyond her years. There were secrets in her eyes now that Demeter couldn't begin to guess, couldn't imagine answering.

It was too much for Hades. With a shudder he suddenly reached for Persephone, turning her face toward his. He kissed her, not light and gently, but _hungry_, passionate, wild. His love, his bride, had chosen him and his world forever, and he _wanted_ her. Persephone met him with equal fire, and Demeter felt voyeuristic to watch them.

"I love you," Hades groaned, breaking off only to press more kisses along Persephone's jaw.

"I love you," she said, and pulled him back to her. There was something tangible between them, a connection that hadn't been there before. Persephone didn't _belong_ to him; she had willingly wrapped herself in his shadows, and _reveled_ in it.

"When do you want to marry?" Hades asked between urgent kisses.

"Is now too soon?" Persephone asked breathlessly.

"Not at all," Demeter's eyes glinted with amusement.


	29. The Queen of the Underworld

**A/N: This is the Penultimate chapter! Only one more to go after this! And the great news is that I have not only finished writing the story, but also finished typing it up! Which means no delay until the last chapter. Much thanks to everyone who stuck by me, even though it took forever to finish the story. Look for the last chapter in a week!**

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Chapter 29: The Queen of the Underworld

In the end, it was a simple ceremony. As a child, Persephone used to dream of what her wedding would be like. Now that the time was here, she found that the details didn't matter so much as the man waiting at the end of the aisle for her. She couldn't have said what she was wearing, or how the little chapel was decorated. She could have been wearing sackcloth and ashes, and once she met Hades' eyes, the love in his expression made her feel beautiful regardless of what she wore. The words they spoke were beyond her. It was the sentiment that mattered, the vow in her heart to always cleave to this man.

Demeter was there, and tearfully gave Persephone to Hades. She couldn't imagine what it might have been like if she _didn't_ have her mother's support in this. That she would still love Hades and wish to marry him was no doubt, but it would have been much more difficult without Demeter's approval. She was glad she didn't have to find out how much.

After the ceremony was a lavish wedding feast. Everyone in the Underworld was happy for them. Not long was Hades more joyful than his subjects had ever seen, but they had grown to love her as well, and wished her the best. For the first time Persephone was able to enjoy the fruits of the Underworld. Hades took particular pleasure in feeding her delicacies. She was equally satisfied that his own appetite had returned. The mortal food that had been reserved for her was given instead to Demeter. Persephone felt bad that there was such poor fare for her mother during the wedding feast, but considering Demeter's weakened state, she wouldn't have been able to tolerate richer food.

Partway through the feast, Hades reached under the table and took her hand. She looked at him, and he wore an expression of dark invitation. She squeezed his hand, and they left the table to the sound of cheers and catcalls. Her face flooded with heat as Hades pulled her from the room. The door scarcely shut behind them before he pounced. He tugged her against him, and took her mouth in a searing kiss. She felt it all the way to her toes. She'd thought they'd exchanged passionate caresses before, but it was nothing compared to how she felt now. There was something different in being married, an edge of restraint that was no longer there. No more would they pull back from consummating their love. After tonight she would belong to him fully.

She felt a surge of emotion that was equal parts anticipation and fear. Demeter had found time before the ceremony to take her aside and warn her about what to expect on her wedding night. Demeter's frank and startlingly intimate details had been mortifying and frightening; Persephone rather thought it would have been better to approach this night in complete ignorance.

Hades' shadow rose to encompass them. When it retreated, Persephone expected to be in his bedroom. Instead, they were in his study. Remembering the countless nights she'd fallen asleep here only to wake up in her own bed, untouched, she recoiled sharply from Hades. He gave her a confused, hurt look. That was _not_ how she wanted her wedding night to go.

"I don't want to be here, Hades," she said tightly.

His expression became shuttered, and he straightened. "Of course not," he said quickly. "I'll take you to your room, then."

"No, I don't want to go there, either."

"My mistake. To the Queen's chambers," he corrected smoothly. He wouldn't look at her. Despite the ardent kisses he'd given her moments ago, he was suddenly cool and distant. She knew him well enough by now to recognize the current of hurt he was trying to hide.

"Hades," she said gently, putting her hand on his chest. A faint tremor ran through him, and his indifferent mask cracked for an instant, showing a flash of pain and confusion in his eyes.

"I'd rather go to your bedroom," she told him honestly.

He blinked at her. "But you said you didn't want to be here," he said slowly.

"Every time I fall asleep here," she explained earnestly, "I wake up alone. I don't want to be alone tonight. I'd rather be with you."

He stared at her, his face gradually thawing. He smiled, an expression of amusement and relief. He backed to a door she'd long assumed led to storage, since she'd never seen it open. Hades opened it. It wasn't storage. It was another room. His bedroom, in fact.

"Oh!" she gasped, feeling rather foolish. To think that his room had been so close, all this time… "I would have had a much harder time keeping my hands to myself if I'd known your room was right there," she mused.

He chuckled. "Yes, you have no idea how tempted I've been."

She felt a warm fluttering in her belly, now that she knew he still wanted her. She moved toward his room, only to find herself blocked by Hades. She gave him a curious look.

"I want to do this right," he whispered, and then picked her up. He carried her bridal style into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. His room was far different from how she'd imagined it. It was very minimalist, with only a bed and an armoire. Despite that, the room didn't feel plain. Each wall had been set with thousands of small gemstones, forming elaborate pictures as detailed as the finest portraits. She recognized several small scenes on the wall, from asphodel flowers to Cerberus and Phlegethon, to a stylized image of how the rivers of the Underworld looked when he was flying above them. She knew instantly that Hades had been the one to painstakingly place every stone in the walls

But the largest, most stunning mural took up an entire wall by itself. Set in brilliant jewel tones, it showed a glorious, dark sky at the edges with pinpricks of silver stars, growing progressively lighter through indigos, reds, oranges, golds, and greens to a faint, pure-white sliver of sun just peeking out from behind the dark purple of shaded hills. It lit the entire room with its impressive array of colors, making the area feel open and airy. It was impossible to say whether it was a sunset or sunrise. She thought it might have been both: a beginning and an ending. It felt especially appropriate on tonight of all nights.

Hades set her down beside his bed. He looked rather nervous, and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Persephone, my love," he began awkwardly. "We don't have to do this to say we're married. If you'd rather not…"

She stopped him by putting her fingers on his lips. "Hades, my husband," she said, feeling a powerful thrill at using his title for the first time. "I would rather we did."

And she pulled him down for a kiss.

Persephone woke slowly the next morning. She was filled with a delicious sort of contentment that made her never want to get out of bed. Maybe she was a little sore, but on the whole the night have been… Mmm.

Something light tickled her face. She scrunched up her nose, and opened her eyes to see Hades smiling at her. He'd been using her own hair to feather her cheek. His face was more relaxed and at ease than she'd ever seen it. His eyes were light silver, almost glowing with the same joy that she felt. For the first time since she'd known him, he looked young. The age difference meant nothing to immortal gods, but he actually seemed carefree right now, as if a great weight had been lifted from him. It turned his face from merely handsome to utterly breathtaking.

"You're beautiful," she blurted before she could stop herself. She blushed as he chuckled.

"If I'm beautiful, it's only a reflection of yourself," he said, running his hand down her side. She arched a little closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his bare skin on hers. He stretched out on his back, revealing himself. "Look at me, wife. This is what you've done to me."

She did look, her heart loving the way he called her _wife_ so easily. His body was exposed before her. He was still scarred, still marked by the trials of his past. But they were faded now, no longer the most prominent part of him. _She_ had done that for him, had helped him heal, helped him release the pain he'd carried for so long. She understood what he meant about being a reflection of her, for she thought the changes in her since she'd come to the Underworld were because of him as well.

Her mouth watered as she looked down at his powerful form, and she felt a flare of hunger in her center. She ran her hands down his golden skin, feeling his muscles shift under her touch. There was a matching hunger on his face. It was a while before they left the bed.

It was tending toward the afternoon when they finally rose. Their seclusion hadn't been only lovemaking, though there'd been plenty of that. It was talking, cuddling, comforting and learning. Now, more than ever, there were no barriers between them. She could feel him inside her, knew a part of her soul was forever touched by him. Being able to hold each other as close as they wanted was a revelation of its own.

They helped each other dress, using it as an excuse to caress one another as much as possible. It took much longer than usual before they were both decent. If it wasn't for the need to return Demeter to the mortal realm to heal the earth, they might not have left the room for several weeks. But of all realms, the Underworld was the one that demanded the most responsibility, and neither of its rulers were the kind to ignore the devastation above them. As much as they wished to laze in bed with each other, they were required elsewhere.

They met Demeter for a late lunch. At the sight of her mother, Persephone's face flamed red. She'd done _things_ with her husband, and she was no longer the innocent maiden she'd been the last time she'd faced Demeter. Demeter's eyes gleamed wickedly, and she opened her mouth to comment. Hades reacted, putting his hand over his wife's and giving Demeter a stern look. The elder goddess decided against antagonizing her new son-in-law. Persephone was grateful to have avoided the humiliating situation.

They sat down to eat. It was a private affair, without Hecate, Thanatos or Charon. The other gods had been at the wedding and the feast afterwards, and had already given the couple their heartfelt wishes. This thing with Zeus was a family matter for them to deal with, though. Besides, as much as Persephone wanted to see her friends, especially Charon, she was slightly uncomfortable that she was supposed to be their Queen ruler now. They'd been her teachers over the last several months, and there was still much she had to learn from them. She'd never imagined that Hades' courting would end like _this_, even if no one else seemed surprised by it. Charon had teasingly called her Queen from the beginning. Little had she known that he hadn't been joking!

Hades, Persephone and Demeter spoke as they ate, and it was decided that Demeter would go back to the mortal world that very day. Hades would accompany her to protect her from Zeus' wrath, and confront his brothers if necessary. No one liked to talk about the possibility of war, but it was there. Persephone felt as though she were in over her head. Demeter and Hades had both been in a war before. She hadn't, and the thought of a struggle made her feel woefully unprepared. However, she refused to be left behind while her mother and husband went off to face Zeus. Demeter and Hades were against her going, since she was the main target of Zeus' obsession.

She appealed directly to Hades. "Please," she said fervently, taking his hand and looking into his eyes. "Ever since I came here, I've done nothing but hide from him. Maybe in the beginning I needed it, but I'm not the same person anymore. I don't want to live my life in fear, always hoping he won't come for me. Hades, I _need_ this."

The expression in his silver eyes was worried as he nodded, but it was also proud. He was concerned for her, wanted to protect her, but not at the cost of her freedom.

Demeter was less than pleased about his decision. "Are you really going to let her do this?" she demanded.

Hades bristled. "She is my wife, not my child," he growled. "She has a right to confront her father, and I have none to deny her. I married her to make her my equal, not to lock her in a tower."

Demeter looked abashed at his vehemence. Persephone felt a swell of love for her husband.

"Thank you," she whispered, and kissed his cheek.

It wasn't enough for him. With a feral expression on his face, he dug his fingers into her hair and kissed her hard. She could feel him trembling with barely contained agitation.

"Please," he murmured against her mouth, "Let me protect you."

She understood what he meant. He wouldn't try to stop her form facing Zeus, but he would do whatever he needed to protect her.

"I'll listen to you," she promised. He kissed her again, softer this time.

"You two are so sweet you make me sick," Demeter said, but she was smiling.

Persephone pulled back from Hades reluctantly. "Do we have time to show Mom around before we have to go?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," he granted indulgently.

She turned eagerly to her mother. "Do you want to see the Underworld?" she asked happily.

"Oh, umm…" Demeter hesitated, clearly reluctant.

Persephone's face fell. Hades glowered at his sister. Demeter blanched.

"I'd love to see this… your new home," the elder goddess corrected herself.

Persephone beamed.


	30. Death and Rebirth

**A/N: The END! Thanks for everyone for sticking with me through the delays. This is the final chapter, I hope you enjoy it!**

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Chapter 30: Death and Rebirth

It was by necessity an abbreviated tour, not like the one that Hades had given her upon first arrival. Demeter was still not strong enough to walk all over the place, and there was the urgency of needing to return to the mortal realm and stop the unnecessary deaths. Still, she wanted to give her mother an overview of what her life was like here. Demeter leaned on Persephone's arm as they walked, with Hades trailing behind them. Occasionally his shadow reached out and stroked her back, reminding her that she was never far from his thoughts. He was careful not to touch Demeter with his shadow, as the older goddess looked alarmed every time his shadow moved independently.

As they walked through the palace, Persephone pointed out places that were significant to her. Demeter was rather tense at first, but as nothing jumped out at them, she began to relax. In fact, the more that Persephone showed to her mother, the more surprised the elder goddess became. Persephone took a certain pride in showing off her home, and in dispelling Demeter's assumptions that the Underworld was a dark, dank place. The fine materials that had made her uncomfortable in their cost now served to impress her mother. And Demeter was impressed. Clearly, the Underworld was nothing like she'd expected.

They stopped before the doors of the throne room so that Demeter could admire the elaborate carvings of Elysium, Asphodel, and Tartarus. Hades moved forward to stand by Persephone's shoulder.

"Touch the doors," he told her in a quiet undertone.

She glanced at him curiously, but did as he said. To her surprise, the white seams in the sodalite doors glowed with quiet power when she touched them, much as they had for Hades in the mines. They had never done _that_ for her before.

"That was pretty," Demeter said, touching the doors while Persephone was still gaping at them. They didn't react to Demeter's touch.

"She's my Queen," Hades said with obvious pride.

And somehow that meant that the Underworld was reacting to her presence? Maybe it had to do with the piece of Hades she could feel inside her? It was something to be explored at a later time.

"I think we still have a little time to visit the kennels and stables before we have to go," she began, trying to hide her confusion over the doors' reaction to her.

Hades cleared his throat. "Aren't you going to go in?" he asked with a far too innocent expression. She shot him a suspicious glance, but his face gave nothing away. She pushed the doors open, causing another ripple of light to go through them.

"And here, Mom, is the throne room where Hades… judges the…" Her voice trailed off as she took in the far side of the room, where there were now _two_ chairs on the dais.

"What's this?" she asked Hades blankly.

"Your throne," he said proprietarily.

She moved forward to take a closer look at it. She was stunned that he'd done this for her. Objectively she knew that she was now Queen of the Underworld, but it didn't really hit her until he did things like this. Like giving her a throne next to his. She approached it silently, too stunned to speak. Hades' throne was a flat, unrelieved black, but hers was far different. It was made of a dark red stone, maybe garnet, and elaborately inset with a looping design of green vines and blue flowers, outlined in white to make the pattern stand out. It was beautiful, and very appropriate for her, made out of materials from Hades' world, but in the symbols of her power. Her throat grew tight looking at it, and she couldn't speak. Hades came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. She leaned back on him.

"You won't be sitting below me anymore," he murmured in satisfaction.

"Th-thank you," she stammered her gratitude.

Demeter watched them, her expression thoughtful.

They left the throne room, and continued the tour by going to the kennels to visit Cerberus. Demeter was less than pleased to see the three-headed dog. Cerberus charged forward to greet Persephone with his usual exuberance. Demeter let out a frightened squeak and hid behind her brother. He laughed, and Persephone wanted to roll in the rich sound. She scratched Cerberus under his chins, alternating hands so that the heads didn't get jealous of each other. She saw her mother slowly venturing out from behind Hades. Demeter stared at Cerberus, then at the Lord of the Underworld.

"I don't know you," she realized slowly.

"No one does," he agreed. "Except her."

He nodded to Persephone. She looked up and met his eyes. She felt a surge of warmth and affection. It still amazed her that this man had chosen her. Demeter watched the two of them curiously.

"Maybe when all of this is over," she began, "I could come back here to visit."

Hades exchanged a look with Persephone before he said, "We'd like that."

They went to the stables as their last stop. Demeter automatically flinched as they entered the building, expecting the fierce Nightmare steeds she'd seen before. She stared in wonder at the gentle, inquisitive equine faces that turned in her direction instead. Persephone loved how every one of her mother's assumptions about the Underworld were being demolished.

Hades' chariot was readied while Persephone introduced Demeter to Sunny and Phlegethon. The journey to the mortal realm was made in silence. Persephone leaned on her husband, both drawing comfort from him and offering reassurance. His muscles were tight with tension, and she knew he hated the idea of leading her into danger. She loved him more for the way he didn't try to stop her. Demeter clung to the side of the chariot with her eyes closed, conserving her strength.

They emerged a short time later into a shock of white. The world was incredibly cold and barren. Persephone had never seen anything like it. She instinctively huddled closer to Hades. His shadow wrapped around them like a blanket, and it had enough substance to protect them from the cold. She stared at the ruin of the mortal world, horrified by what had become of it. Where were her green fields and bright flowers? Where were the animals, the insects, the people?

Everything was eerily still, covered in a thick layer of frost. If there was life remaining in this empty place, it was well hidden away. In other circumstances it would have been beautiful, but all Persephone could think of now were all the people starving, freezing and _dying_ because of this devastation. How could Zeus have let his obsession get this far?

Demeter was also badly affected by the white, empty world around them. She fell to her knees in the snow, heedless of the cold or the wet. Tears fell down her face, threatening to freeze on her cheeks.

"My world," she mourned, "My beautiful, growing world…"

Persephone had never seen her mother so wounded before, and it hurt to witness it.

Demeter scrabbled at the snow with her hands until she uncovered a bare patched of dead earth. She pressed her palm to the frozen dirt, and Persephone felt her mother's power surge. Nothing happened for several minutes, until a few fragile, green shoots slowly rose from the ground. Demeter sat back heavily, already worn from the effort. And this was only small patch of ground, let alone the entire world. Persephone stepped forward and rested a hand on Demeter's bony shoulder.

"I'll help you, Mom," she promised. She'd spent months in the Underground, learning and growing stronger, while Demeter had been chased and starved. Even with the new dark power of the Underworld flowing through her veins, she could feel the young life of the plants. She could still grow things.

Demeter looked up gratefully, but before she could reply, there was a clap of thunder. Zeus appeared before them with the stench of ozone.

"Demeter," he hissed furiously. "Did you think you could escape me without consequence?"

Persephone froze at the sight of her father, her tormentor. Fear made her heart pound in her throat. She should have never insisted on coming. What was she thinking, imagining she could stand up to the King of the Skies?

Demeter however rose gracefully to her feet, facing him defiantly and incidentally blocking Persephone from view. The younger goddess was all too happy to hide in her mother's shadow.

"Think again, Zeus," Demeter said coolly. "I've had enough of your interference. This ends now."

Zeus laughed cruelly. "You think _you_ can tell me to stop? You haven't the strength to stand against me, even before you withered away." He cast her a dismissive glance.

"But I do," Hades rumbled, stepping forward to make another barrier between Persephone and Zeus. His shadow caressed her legs in a familiar gesture. She was grateful for her protectors. The reality of Zeus was far more than she'd been prepared for. She might be the Queen of the Underworld in name, but in her heart she was still a simple spring goddess he could easily crush.

Zeus paused, taking in his brother's rare appearance warily. He'd been so focused on Demeter that he hadn't realized just who was with her.

"Hades," he said stiffly, his eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here? Go back to your shadows and your ghosts. This doesn't concern you."

Hades didn't move, but he didn't have to look threatening. He'd retreated to his dark, quiet persona. He fairly exuded power and a sense of warning. His shadow flowed restlessly. Zeus' eyes flicked to the diaphanous shadow. Persephone realized he was… cautious of it. For the first time she felt a thread of relief. All her life Zeus had been the ultimate power that all bowed before. Only now did it occur to her that he was the _youngest_ brother. She was married to the _oldest_. Hades held all the power and authority of being the eldest, and even Zeus was wary of challenging him.

"It concerns me when my wife is involved," Hades said in a low, deadly tone.

"Wife?" Zeus rocked back slightly, looking over Demeter. "_Her_?"

Knowing that Hades and Demeter were on her side gave Persephone the courage to come forward.

"Hello, Father," she said calmly.

He glanced at her with an expression of confusion. No doubt he had sired so many scions that it was hard for him to remember them all. Plus, she had changed while in the Underworld. She was no longer the innocent maiden to tremble before him. She was married, a Queen, with new strength coursing through her. She held his gaze steadily until recognition dawned for him.

He looked her up and down, his face turning hungry. "Well, if it isn't little Persephone," he drawled. "All this fuss over you, child. You should have come with me in the beginning, and none of this would have happened."

She felt a flicker of doubt, wondering if he was right. If she'd only let Zeus… have her, he would have grown bored soon enough, and then she would have been free. And no one would have died because of her. Hades and Demeter both edged toward her, offering their unconditional support.

"Watch your tongue," Hades growled. "She is worth more than you."

Zeus smirked. "No, she isn't. And you should know better than to think that your vows mean anything to _me_. Give her up, Hades. I promise I'll even give her back to you."

He reached for her. Hades stepped in front of her protectively.

"Move aside, brother!" Zeus snapped, thunder in his voice.

"No," Hades whispered, his tone more dangerous for being so quiet. Shadows gathered in his palms. Tension crackled in the air. Even Demeter was leaning away from her brothers in alarm.

And instead of feeling afraid of Zeus and his threat, Persephone felt something shift inside of her. Something dark and unforgiving. It was _power_, separate from her connection to Hades. This was her link to the Underworld, truly felt and understood for the first time. She touched it and it unfurled inside her, filling her veins with iron. With strength. The Underworld was with her, and she _knew_ she had nothing to fear from Zeus. Suddenly she wanted to laugh. She didn't feel like the little child Zeus had called her. She was no longer the trembling maiden hiding from him. She was the Queen of the Underworld, with reason to fear no one.

She stepped forward, away from Hades. He made a sound in the back of his throat, and his shadow surged up to surround her. She ran her hands across it, and it arched under her touch like a living thing. She could feel Hades' palpable need to pull her back and protect her, and she sent back her own reassurance that she knew what she was doing. That which was within her was reacting to that which was within him. It was the Underworld. They might be far from their home, but it would never forsake them.

There was an uncomfortable look on Zeus' face as he watched her within her husband's shadow. She knew at once that he _couldn't_ understand the dark power that flowed through them—and it made him afraid. Furthermore, she saw that he was a true predator: strong, but ultimately a coward at heart. A hunter always chose the fight he knew he would win. Zeus might like his women to struggle in bed, but he always knew he could overwhelm them. Never had there been someone who could stand up to him, who could resist him on equal grounds. Not until Hades elevated her to his position. Not until the Underworld accepted her as its Queen, and freely gave her its strength.

"You don't want me, Father," she said. "Not like this." She smiled at him, fey and unfettered. She called up her magic, letting it freely mingle with Hades' shadow. It was different now. Instead of the delicate, twining green vines, her magic had become twisted vines of the Underworld's iron, strong and pliable. Razor sharp thorns grew from the stems, ready to defend her and her mate. Tiny blood-red blossoms grew along the vines, sparkling with the flames of Tartarus.

Zeus visibly gulped and took a step back. He'd been expecting some fragile goddess, not this bastion of power. Part of her wanted to follow him, for the fear he'd caused her and the pain he'd inflicted on her mother. She wasn't here to start a fight, though. The goal was to get out of this _without_ an altercation.

"H-how?" Zeus stammered. He wasn't looking at her with lust anymore, but with revulsion. It hurt the tiny part of her that hoped for her father's approbation, but her heart belonged to Hades, not to this petty god-king.

"I grew up," she said firmly. "I'm not the little girl you can push around and traumatize."

Hades shifted forward, sliding his arm around her waist. She leaned on him, knowing they made a striking image with her iron magic and his shadow-form.

"She is more than my wife," Hades spoke with primal satisfaction. "She is my Queen. My equal—and yours."

"Leave me alone," she said warningly. "Leave my husband alone. Leave my mother alone. Have nothing more to do with us. Or we will go after you."

Zeus sneered. "You can't dictate to me! I am the King of the Heavens!"

"And we are the Queen and King of the Underworld." Power crackled in her voice, making him flinch. He tried to cover it up.

"Like I would want to spend myself with such an uptight—"

His words were cut off by a loud growl from Hades. It was just as well, since there were some things a daughter shouldn't have to hear from her father.

"You forget, that with every person you've killed off in you petulance, you have only added to our stable," she said mildly.

Zeus really paused at that, and seemed to consider just how many souls he'd sent to the Underworld by his actions. There was a definite flicker of worry in his eyes. He pretended it didn't bother him by shrugging.

"I'd rather just forget that I ever bothered with you or your mother," he said coldly. He turned away disdainfully.

Hades' tensed to lunge after him. Persephone leaned hard against him, silently urging him to restraint. Surprisingly, it was Demeter who reacted.

"Forget us?" she cried angrily, bright spots of color on her thin, pale face. "After what you did to us, to me, you want to _forget_ us? No, I won't stand for it! I curse you, Zeus. As you took me from the earth and made it cold and barren, so I curse you to be cold. Starve as I starved. For the time you imprisoned me, three months will you suffer, of every year from now to eternity!"

She curved her fingers into claws and raked them at Zeus. Caught unaware, there was little he could do to deflect the curse. It struck him and took vicious hold. Zeus had been casual about Demeter's position, but the fact was that she was his sister, one of the original Olympians. If she was not a queen or ruler over anything, she was still old and strong enough to make herself felt. Her power as the goddess of the harvest crashed over him and took root.

Zeus blanched as he staggered away. Without another word he disappeared in a flash of lightning.

There was stunned silence once Zeus was gone. Persephone was quite impressed with her mother. Even in her weakened state, she still had the power to lay a curse of winter on Zeus. There was no way he'd been forgetting _them_ in a hurry.

Hades began to laugh. It wasn't a booming sound, but it seemed startlingly loud in the stillness. He turned to Persephone and swept her up in his arms.

"You are magnificent, my love," he said, nuzzling his face into her hair.

She let out a breathless giggle, hardly able to believe they'd faced down Zeus, lord of the skies, without injury.

"You were pretty good yourself," she said cheekily, and he grinned at her.

"Persephone," Demeter called in a strained voice.

The younger goddess looked at her mother in alarm. Now that the flush of confrontation had faded, she appeared frail and tired.

"I need your help to heal the world. I'm not strong enough on my own, and if we do nothing it will continue to die," Demeter said.

Hades set Persephone on her feet, and she walked to Demeter.

"I said I'd help you," she said, holding out her hands. Demeter took them, and together they faced the vast expanse of white, Hades and his shadow a dark presence behind him. As one the goddesses reached out to revive the world. Demeter's power was older, deeper and more familiar, but also weaker and exhausted. Persephone's power was younger, stronger but untried. Together they did far more than either could hope to do alone, but it wasn't enough. They needed _more_.

Instinctively Persephone reached back for Hades. He took her hand, and his dark power flooded into the bond between mother and daughter. Demeter started to shudder away from him, but Persephone gripped her hand hard. They needed Hades. Persephone was a perfect blend of the two powers on either side of her. Daughter of the goddess of the harvest, wife to the god of the dead. Light and dark, death and life, growing and decay. She channeled Hades' strength into herself, and then let it whisper out into the world.

The world sighed in relief.

The touch of death stole over the earth. The restless death were given peace at last, and the dying were eased into their final slumber. Both gave up their vital energy so that new life may grow on their remains. Finally, it was enough.

The three of them warmed the cold world. White snow melted into brown mud, but even the mud was teeming with life. New buds burst into being around them, tentatively raising their heads with growing strength. They rose out of their fallen ancestors, hardier for having been nourished by death.

It was a beginning and an ending. Death and rebirth.

Just as it should be.


End file.
